


Peter 5:8

by Forest_Girl



Series: Functionally Dysfunctional [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Allergic reaction, Anal Sex, Angst, Begging, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bottom Nero (Devil May Cry), Break Up, Break Up Talk, Choking, Cleaning, Clothed Sex, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Guilt, HOO BOY STRAP IN BOYS THIS IS GONNA BE A RIDE, Hand Jobs, Holy Water, Hot Chocolate, House Cleaning, Immediate regret, Internal Conflict, Kink Discovery, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Negotiations, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Parent/Child Incest, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Regret, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sort Of, Talking, Tender at the end, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Vergil being an Ass, Vomiting, protective!Nico, strip club, the return of Clean Freak!Nero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_Girl/pseuds/Forest_Girl
Summary: He ran like a coward to the only place he could think was safe: Fortuna. He just needed to clear his head, take a breather, and get away from his fucked up family for a little while.Of course, just because he could run, that didn’t mean everything was going to solve itself.
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante/Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Kyrie & Nero (Devil May Cry), Nero & Nico (Devil May Cry), Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Functionally Dysfunctional [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534928
Comments: 34
Kudos: 403





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hullo hullo hullo! Welcome back! 
> 
> So, before we begin, for any new readers: this is a direct sequel to Impulse Control, the prior fic in this series! This fic will refer back to events that happened in Impulse Control, so not only will you be spoiled, you will be lost because… you’re jumping into a sequel fic without reading the first fic lol.
> 
> For everyone who’s a seasoned veteran to my bullshit… let’s get back to torturing Nero, shall we? ;)

Five minutes after the ferry left the dock, Nero leaned over the railing and hurled. 

This late at night, the ferry was pretty empty. There were only a few, desperate folks with their belongings shoved into their bags as they ran towards a new life. Those that were sitting on the deck with him gave him pitiful looks as he proceeded to puke his guts out, _again._

At this point, he honestly didn’t know how much of his sickness was centered around feeling seasick, or how much of it was caused by his demon throwing a fit. Thankfully, his body wasn’t randomly triggering, which was a small blessing—he honestly couldn’t imagine how this ferry ride would go if he shifted in the middle of the deck. He’d imagine a lot of screaming, maybe a few would jump overboard to try and save themselves.

Feeling his nausea abate a bit, Nero sat down, leaning his back against the wall and taking a moment to try and breathe through the salty spray. He wondered how Kyrie and Nico would react to him returning unexpectedly, since he hadn’t called to let them know he was coming. They’d probably be worried, considering he looked like he got trampled by a horde of Empusas. The kids would be happy, if they were awake. If not, then it would be a good surprise for them come morning.

Honestly, he almost regretted getting on the ferry in the first place. Leaving the mainland felt… permanent. Like he was never coming back. He knew that was untrue—he and Nico would eventually be called out to help with a job or two at some point—but still, maybe he could’ve tried to get Morrison’s number and ask to stay somewhere for a night or two, maybe with Lady or Trish. 

But he couldn’t go back now. There had to be a good couple miles between him and the mainland now, and Fortuna was fast approaching. 

Running from his family was a temporary ‘solution’ in that it… wasn’t a solution at all. It was Nero putting off the inevitable conversation for a later date and, at some point, he’d have to address Vergil’s… _offer._

He’d have to rebuke it, obviously. Even if Vergil and Dante weren’t his family, they were work colleagues that shared an agent. Their paths would cross whether they liked it or not, so he’d have to tell Vergil that he could shove Yamato up his ass—

Bile rose in the back of his throat, and Nero jumped up to his feet, leaning over the bow of the ship as he began to dry heave. 

“If I _ever_ get the chance,” Nero rasped out, not caring if any other passengers could hear him. “I am going to beat the ever loving shit out of you.”

He heard a growl in the back of his head as his stomach twisted again, and Nero couldn’t leave his spot for the rest of the trip.

* * *

Nearly six years after The Order imploded, and there were still rubble-filled streets and partially destroyed buildings. He wasn’t surprised, considering the island still didn’t have any defined leaders to organize repair crews, other than maybe Kyrie. It would still be a while yet before Fortuna would be stable enough to stand on its own without struggling, and even longer before it gained even a shadow of its former glory.

Nero weaved through the streets with practiced ease, travelling through the darker, half-destroyed alleys. There was a lot about his heritage that sucked, but there were some upsides, like his night vision. He could easily see the barely lit streets in the middle of the night and, with the streets empty with no one stopping him and no demons diving in his path, it didn’t take much time for him to arrive at Kyrie’s house.

The upstairs lights were off, but Nero could see a faint light from further in the house, probably from the kitchen. The garage was also lit up, and Nero could hear hard rock music mixed with metallic clangs, probably from Nico busily working on… something. Hopefully nothing explosive.

Making the smart choice, Nero headed towards the front door, knocking three times and waiting. He’d ring the doorbell, but it was shrill and _very_ loud, and he didn’t want to risk waking the kids.

Nero could hear a slight clatter of plates from the kitchen, then some muffled footsteps that stopped just before the door. Nero saw a hint of auburn hair behind the one of the glass openings of the door before he heard a tiny gasp. The lock clicked, and the door swung open, Kyrie standing on the other side, her mouth open in shock. 

They stared at each other, the silence stretching on for a good minute before Nero lifted his hand and awkwardly waved. “Hi. So… uh—”

Kyrie darted forward and hugged him, laughing slightly as she tried to squeeze him. “Welcome back!”

Nero took a step back at first, then gently pushed Kyrie away. “While I appreciate the hug, I’m not exactly, uh… _clean_ right now.”

He gestured down at his blood-covered shirt, with drying bile splattered around the collar. He didn’t have time to change before getting on the ferry, and between travelling and dealing with his demon’s bitchiness, putting on fresh clothes was the last thing on his mind.

Kyrie saw the dark stains before looking up at Nero with concern. She lifted one of her hands and pressed it against Nero’s cheek before asking, “What happened?”

“A lot.” Nero sighed, taking Kyrie’s hand in his and running his thumb over her knuckles. “A lot.”

* * *

Once Nero changed into an old pair of pajamas from his room (and shoved his dirty clothes in the hamper), Kyrie ushered him to the kitchen table as she began to heat up some of the leftovers from dinner. As the microwave hummed away, she rushed over to the garage. There was a whispered conversation before she returned with Nico in tow.

Nero had been right in assuming Nico had been working on something. Dressed in her protective outfit, there were oil stains all over her, the most noticeable marks on her cheeks and glasses. Her hair, tied back into a ponytail, was slick with sweat and grease. A devious grin broke across her face when her eyes landed on Nero. “You piece of shit. Didn’t even bother calling ahead!!”

“I would’ve if I had the time.” Nero shrugged.

Nico wiggled her eyebrows and spread her arms out. “Well? Don’t I get a hello hug?”

“No way.”

“Aw c’mon, I know you want to!” 

Nico stepped closer, and Nero summoned his spectral arms, pushing her away gently. “Not until you get changed.”

“That’ll take too long! It’s the least you can do, droppin’ in all unannounced.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry!”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Kyrie didn’t raise her voice, but she it was more than enough to stop their bickering. The microwave beeped, and she quickly pulled out the plate of reheated lasagna for Nero. “Now, what happened?”

While Nero waited for the lasagna to go from ‘holy shit it’s like eating lava directly from the volcano’ to ‘pleasantly warm,’ he filled the girls in on what happened with some… minor changes. He didn’t give them any… _explicit_ details—even if Kyrie had an open mind when compared to other Fortunans, he doubted that she would be okay with learning that Vergil and Dante were… _close_ —and he ended the story when Vergil attacked him in his room. Maybe, when he wasn’t exhausted and stressed out, he’d tell them the full story.

“I wish you would have called when they first showed up.” Kyrie said with a slight pout.

“I figured it wouldn’t make much of a difference. I was going to be away regardless.” Nero shrugged as he talked around his food. He could’ve died then and there—it had been a _long_ time since he had lasagna, and Kyrie’s cooking was amazing as always. Nero could only dream to be as good as her one day. 

“I hate to be the one to put this out there, but…” Kyrie struggled for words. “Do you think they were lying about the territory thing?”

“Nah, I doubt it.” Nico shrugged. “My shitbag daddy had some notes about territory squabbles. If Nero’s demon made a mark on the place, then it definitely didn’t like two stronger demons being there alone. Probably thought they’d take it over and kick him out, and made him feel sick to force him to stay.”

“Yeah, that… wasn’t fun.” Nero winced at the reminder of his boat trip. “It’s… _less_ now, but at the start I couldn’t go more than a street over without feeling nauseous.” With a slight wince, Nero looked down at his half-finished plate of lasagna. “Now that I think about it, I really hope I don’t throw up again after eating this.”

“You probably won’t.” Both Kyrie and Nero looked over at the mechanic. “You ditched the office and you’re miles away with an ocean between you and them. After a month of ‘fighting’ to keep your territory, you ran for the hills. Once it figures out that you ain’t going back, it should cool its heels and leave ya be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Sure I’m sure!” She said in a way that made her sound decidedly unsure. “Just… let us know if you start feelin’ sick in the next couple days.”

Nero knew that they’d easily be able to hear him throwing up if he did, but he nodded all the same, finishing off the last of the lasagna. Kyrie took his plate before he could get up, bringing it to the sink to clean it. “So…” She started, throwing her voice so she could be heard over the water. “What now?”

“Honestly?” Nero leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at the table. “No clue. I figured I’d stay here for a bit, get some space between us, and then… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to go back at some point?” Kyrie lifted her head to look at him, turning off the sink to address him properly.

“If only to try and make things… stable? I guess?” Nero scratched at the slight stubble growing on his face—he’d have to shave soon, hopefully there was still a spare razor laying around the bathroom. “If something big happens or we need help here or I need to go out, I don’t want good old _dad_ trying to stab me every five minutes, and I don’t want Dante to act like that’s completely fine.”

Nico tsked behind him, her foot tapping against the tile floor. “Pieces of shit should’ve known that from the start.”

Nero hummed noncommittally before standing from his chair. Now that the excitement of the past several hours had worn off and he had a full belly, he could feel exhaustion starting to worm its way through his body, his limbs heavy and his balance slightly off-kilter. “Is my bed made, or…?”

“Ah, no.” Kyrie winced. “Sorry, I was letting the mattress air. There should be some sheets and pillows in the linen closet.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.” Without waiting for either girl to strike up another conversation, Nero went back to the main room and grabbed his duffel bag, heading upstairs. He’d have to be quiet while making his bed as to not wake the kids, but once he was done, he was sure that he’d be dead to the world.

His room was mostly the same as he left it, minus the unmade bed. Nero didn’t take every belonging he had when he went to Devil May Cry, so there should be some spare clothes in his drawers. 

Still, that left the problem of getting the stuff he left behind back from the office. Maybe he could call Lady or Trish and ask them to mail them back to him? He wasn’t willing to trust Dante with mailing _anything_ , and Vergil… 

Well, for one thing, he doubted Vergil knew how to mail anything, _period_. The other was that he honestly couldn’t think of Vergil rooting around all his things without feeling his stomach twist itself into knots.

Placing his duffel bag to the side, he made a quick trip to the linen closet and grabbed a set of fresh sheets. He tiptoed back in, keeping an ear out for any movement coming from the kid’s room, and quietly got to work. Halfway through, there was a rapid series of knocks on his door, then Nico burst through. “Hey.”

Nero rolled his eyes, tucking a corner before he looked at Nico over his shoulder. “You know the whole reason for knocking is to ask permission before coming inside, right?”

“I know, I know, just…” Nico huffed and bitter her lip, fingers twitching. Nero couldn’t smell the usual cigarette smoke that clung to her clothes. “You know that I’d beat the shit outta him, right?”

Nero huffed out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, _what?”_

“Vergil. I’d beat the shit outta him if he threatens ya again.” Nico nodded, sure of herself. “Got some new toys that his deadbeat ass would be a _great_ test subject for.”

Nero couldn’t help the slightly incredulous laugh that left him. “You would _not_ be able to beat Vergil. _I_ barely beat Vergil.”

“Yeah, but I’d do it to keep your dumbass safe.” Nico smiled, giving Nero a little wave as she turned and left. “Just remindin’ ya.”

Nico left the room and, for the first time that evening, Nero felt… warm.

* * *

As Nero predicted, the second his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. He didn’t wake up until well past noon, much to Julio, Kyle, and Carlo’s surprise when he trudged sleepily downstairs in search of food.

The kids tackled him, nearly knocking him over as they all clamored for his attention, asking him what the mainland was like, what his favorite part was, if they could play later, the usual. He couldn’t blame them for their enthusiasm—they hadn’t seen him for a couple months and, even if the last twenty-four hours were awful, he wasn’t going to be the type of person to dump his bullshit on his kids. 

So, he told them what he could without letting on too much. The mainland was cool and maybe they could go there for a fun trip sometime soon. He liked the mall and the food they offered. He was tired right now and wanted to take it easy on his first day back, but maybe they could play later, or he could help them with their chores and homework instead.

Thankfully, the rest of the day wasn’t bad. He only had a few moments of feeling nauseous that faded as quickly as they came, and he managed to squeeze in a nap before dinner to rest a bit more. By sunset, he felt more like himself than he’d been in… a while, really. Being back with his family and friends felt like a balm on a burn he’d left unattended for weeks.

And that was all well and good. Really good. But, as the days dragged on, Nero found it harder to stay inactive. 

Granted, he’d take inactivity over throwing up again (his throat was going to feel raw for a _long_ time), but not doing anything meant he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts. About himself, and about Dante and Vergil, and seeing them that night, together, and Vergil’s smug, confident tone, _we would be happy to have you._

And he fucking _couldn’t._ He couldn’t think of that, because there’d be this twisting feeling in his stomach and the questions that would flit through his head—questions he didn’t want to think about because they were _wrong_ questions. Questions he shouldn’t think about, because it was just—

Just—

~~_Would they really be happy to—?_ ~~

Nero growled and shoved a pillow over his face, breathing in his own scent as he tried to calm himself down. He didn’t know what to think, but being left alone with his own thoughts was evidently not the way to handle this.

But there was nothing to _do._ Fortuna wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis and, even if it was, he didn’t have friends outside of Nico and Kyrie, and they didn’t have a lot of money to throw around. He hadn’t gotten any job offers, likely because the island had yet to realize he’d returned. 

On one hand, that was good. Great, even. It meant Fortuna’s stability was improving and they didn’t need Nero at every hour of the day. On the other hand, that meant less money coming to him and _so much boredom._ Kyrie wanted him to take it easy (and he didn’t have the heart to argue with her), he knew better than to bug Nico, and, though the kids were _great_ and he loved playing with them, they were at school and wouldn’t be back until the afternoon, at the earliest.

So that left Nero with too much free time on his hands and nothing to do with it. He could head into Mitis Forest to fight the lingering plant-based demons, but without the van, that was a good half a day’s walk through Lamina, then navigating the castle and hoping he could get the bridge extended without being ambushed by demons. Too much work for no pay and no immediate danger

Not that he was a money-driven person, but gaining money was better than not, especially since having him back meant there was an extra mouth to feed.

But he didn’t have anything to _do_ and, if he stayed here for another minute, he might actually go insane. Kyrie had taken the kids to school before going out to run errands, and Nico was in one of her inventing moods, which meant disturbing her was a surefire way to get a few bruises from her wrench, and, as fun as that sounded, Nero knew once she was done she’d interrogate him. He couldn’t handle his own thoughts, but having to deal with Nico’s prying on top of that would only make things worse.

Growling into his pillow, Nero threw on his coat and collected his weapons, cinching a few of his Devil Breakers on his belt, just in case something happened while he was out. He was just going to walk around, try to burn most of the restless energy off. Maybe getting some fresh air would clear his mind.

It wouldn’t. Nero knew himself too well to know that a casual stroll through town would do jack shit, but he could cling onto some false hope if it made him feel better.

With his hood thrown up (not like it’d do much, considering his recognizable outfit and his _very_ recognizable sword), he made his way into town, avoiding the areas where Kyrie was supposed to be. He loved her, he _really_ did, but he just… didn’t want to worry her. 

Entering the plaza, it was easy to see Fortuna had changed from when Nero was a teen. There were a few people—survivors—that were still jumpy after the Savior incident, but a majority of the people were bustling around, doing chores and jobs and getting where they needed to be. People were… happier. Not ecstatic, but Fortuna felt like it was growing and changing instead of being the same, stick-up-its-ass, stuck in the stone age town it was when growing up. 

It was better. Not perfect, and not the perfection the Order of the Sword had strived for, but… better.

But, if that was the case, why did he feel like there was a stone sitting in his gut?

Nero frowned. Maybe he _was_ still sick? It wouldn’t be the first time he ignored his body’s obvious warning signs that he wasn’t okay, but… maybe he should head back.

“Did I tell you about what Mario told me?” Nero paused, subtly tilting his head towards a pair of gossiping housewives. He didn’t recognize them, but… then again, he didn’t exactly pay that much attention to the older folk outside of those that he knew to avoid. Probably better that he didn’t know them, actually.

“What did your brother make up this time?”

“No, this time he was telling the truth! He looked paler than Lamina Peak after a blizzard!”

The second woman groaned. _“Fine._ What did he tell you?”

“He said while he was on patrol by the old castle, he could…” There was a pause, then the first woman lowered her voice to a near-whisper. _“Hear things,_ moaning so loud that it shook the entire castle!”

“Ah yes, the castle. Which was abandoned and then became demon infested _years_ ago, then left to rot. What a surprise that he could hear something moving around and breaking things, it’s almost as if the building is old and collapsing in on itself.”

“But he said that, whatever was making the noise was something he never heard before! If it could make him scared, then it has to be big!”

“Oh please, your brother is not only notorious for making up grandiose stories to make himself look better, but also for being a coward.”

“Okay, but he’s never _admitted_ to being a coward before. There has to be some big, scary demon in the castle, I’m sure of it!”

“Then bring it up with a more competent soldier. Or are you going to let dear Mario, saviour of Fortuna, handle the ‘big scary demon?’”

The women broke off into bickering, and Nero huffed, gently shaking his head. When Nero was a soldier, Mario was a new recruit, so they never met or interacted outside of gossip spread through the barracks. Mario probably spun up some tall tale to make himself look impressive for his family, or for the other recruits.

…But, if he _wasn’t_ lying…

Nero smirked and wiggled his fingers, working out the stiffness that had settled in them over the past few days. It sounded like it wasn’t a posted job, nor one that would be posted any time soon, and he already had his gear on him, so… why not at least scout the place out? 

He could already feel his pulse racing as he ducked into an alleyway, climbing up to the roof and jumping across buildings towards the abandoned mines. Maybe he owed Mario a favor for giving him a decent excuse to head out.

* * *

As far as Nero was concerned, Mario was fucking dead to him.

Nero couldn’t find anything unusual during the few hours he spent walking around but, to be fair, he wasn’t exactly doing a _thorough_ search. He spent his time walking through the castle at a somewhat relaxed pace, casting his senses out for anything that caught his attention. He spent more time practicing that then fighting anything and, while that was good for the few soldiers that had to patrol near the castle, it sucked for him when he was looking for a big fight.

Of course, just because he couldn’t find anything concerning didn’t mean the castle was empty. He found a couple Frosts on the bridge, a pair of Fausts drifting through the abandoned courtyard, and then dealt with an annoying-ass Blitz that hung out in one of the rotting bedrooms. 

Tired, irritated, and freezing in his snow-soaked clothes, Nero spent most of his fights triggered, rushing into battle and tearing demons to shreds. The fights were brutal, even by Nero’s standards, but once they were done, Nero felt… good. Not great, but leagues better than he’d been that morning.

He still wanted to punch Mario in his stupid, lying face, but he could do that another day.

The downside to fighting in close-quarters was that he got absolutely _covered_ in demon gore. He figured that, since the demon form tended to just disappear once he ran out of energy that he’d just be sweaty, but apparently not. He tried to wipe the worst of the blood off in the snow on the way back, but most of it stuck to him like glue. 

To be fair, even if he did manage to clean his clothes, he’d still feel gross. The first thing he’d do when he got back to Kyrie’s house would be taking a shower.

He didn’t get back to the city until dark, the streets empty as most of the Fortunanas hid indoors once the sun went down. He doubted he’d run into anyone, but he stuck to the alleys just in case, doing his best to avoid someone freaking out at the sight of a blood-soaked man wielding a big, equally bloodied sword. 

But, while he’d become an expert at avoiding people, he had no way of avoiding Nico, who opened the front door with a hand on her hip. Julio, Kyle, and Carlo were huddled behind her, staring up at Nero with a mixture of fear and awe, and he could see Kyrie pacing further back, chewing on her nails.

Nico made a show of rolling her eyes and shouted over her shoulder. “He’s back.”

Kyrie jerked up, eyes wide as she turned to the door. With a hitched breath, she ran towards him, Nico and the boys smartly moving out of the way before she ran into them. “Where did you _go?_ I came back and you weren’t here and there wasn’t a note, and Nico didn’t know where you were, and… what on _earth_ are you covered in?”

Guilt pooled in Nero’s stomach. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d be gone so long.”

“There are workin’ phone booths all around.” Nico glared. “Ya could’ve called and left a message.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Nero eased himself into the house, gently kicking the door closed behind him. She was right, he should’ve called before he made it to the abandoned mines, he just… didn’t. “There was a rumor there might’ve been an unknown demon hanging around Fortuna Castle, so I went to check it out.”

“I told you to relax!” Kyrie chastised him, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket and gently wiping some grime off his cheek. Nero didn’t object to the fussing, letting Kyrie tend to him as Nico made a show of pinching her nose and waving her hand in Nero’s direction.

“You fought somethin’?” Carlo asked, peaking around Nico’s leg. 

“Yeah.” Nero crouched to the kids’ heights, grabbing the bottom of his coat and holding out to show the various stains covering it. “Got _really_ dirty.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Nico coughed. “Did you roll around in demon sh—poop?”

“Nah, it was just some messy fights.” Nero straightened again, turning to Kyrie. “I’m sorry, really. I went for a walk and I heard the rumor and, since it was far away, I figured it was better to go right away since I already had Red Queen with me. I should’ve called or found some way to send you a message.”

Kyrie sighed, brushing some hair behind her ear. “It’s… okay. I understand.”

“Yeah, well.” Nico punched Nero’s arm. “While we’re gone, maybe you should take a shower and do some laundry. It’s the least you could do after makin’ us worry half to death.”

“You’re going somewhere?” Nero asked.

“I’m heading out to meet with some of the Order soldiers to help organize patrols and rebuilding efforts.” Kyrie said. “And Nico’s dropping me off before taking the kids out to dinner.”

“We’re getting fancy food!” Kyle threw his arms up with a smile.

“Yeah, if you consider pizzas fancy.” Nico rolled her eyes. “New pizza place opened up about a week ago and I wanted to see how it’d measure up to the mainland. Figured I could take the kids with me while Kyrie went out for her meeting.”

“Think you can hold down the fort for us?” Kyrie asked with a small smile that wavered only a tiny amount.

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” Nero shrugged. “Besides, Nico’s got a point. I need to clean up.”

“Yeah, you do.” Nico snapped her fingers, heading towards the garage. “C’mon kiddos, time for a joy ride!”

“Don’t kill them!” Nero called after her, nearly drowned out by the kids’ cheering. He waited a few seconds before turning to Kyrie. “Didn’t we make a pizza for them at one point?”

“We did, but the pizzeria is from a mainland chain that Nico recognized. She wanted to see if it was just as good, and if the kids would like it.” Kyrie sighed, taking one of Nero’s dirty hands in her own and holding it close to her heart. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Just a couple bruises. It looks worse than it actually is, I promise.” Nero leaned forward and laid a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I really am sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going..”

“I know you are.” Kyrie chuckled, her tone light. “Just… don’t make a habit of it? I get so worried sometimes, especially with what you’ve been dealing with recently.”

“Kyrie, I’m okay.” Nero wiped his hand clean of gore on his shirt before gently cupping Kyrie’s cheek. “You’re okay. Nico’s okay. The kids are okay. I just… wasn’t thinking.”

Kyrie leaned into his hand for a moment, smiling softly. She pulled away after a few seconds, standing on the tips of her toes to press a chaste kiss to Nero’s cheek, giggling when Nero’s cheeks lit up with a bright blush. “Nico and the kids should be gone for about an hour or two, I’ll be gone a bit longer.”

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ve handled the meetings in worse conditions, Nero.” Kyrie threw on a thick winter coat, smiling over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll let everyone know that you’re here and available for hire. If there _is_ anything out in Lamina, I’ll tell them to direct the jobs to you.”

“Thanks, Kyrie.” As she was about to enter the garage, Nero called out, “Love you!”

“Love you too!” The door closed behind her with a click.

And, once again, Nero was alone with his thoughts.

_Great._

* * *

Cleaning his clothes was a standard affair at this point, especially since he usually got dirty no matter how carefully he fought. He filled a basin with cold water and put his jacket, pants, and shirt in to soak while he showered. He put his boots off to the side—those he’d need to scrub clean by hand—before heading up to the bathroom.

If there was one thing Nero could say he missed while living on the mainland, it was Kyrie’s bathroom. The tub was a clean, sparkling white, and big enough for two people to sit with room to spare. He knew from experience that long baths worked wonders on his tense muscles after a long day, and that he could soak in the warm water for _hours_ if he really wanted.

Unfortunately, taking a bath was a bad idea with how filthy he was. He didn’t want to stew in demon blood and his sweat for an hour, so he turned on the shower, a pleased shiver running up his spine as the water pounded against the tub. He waited for steam to rise from the pooling water before stepping in, letting out a moan as near-scalding water ran down his body, relaxing his tense muscles.

He took a moment to simply revel in the warmth after the hours spent freezing in Lamina before he grabbed one of his old shampoo bottles, pouring a hefty amount into his hand before going to work. He didn’t have nearly as long hair as in the past, but he needed as much as he could hold if he wanted to get all the gunk out. The water pooling at his ankles quickly turned brown, thicker clumps of red-black material falling and floating to the surface. With a scowl, Nero bent down and opened the drain, watching the evidence of his filth swirl away, leaving the white porcelain in its wake. 

With that first step done, Nero quickly lathered his hair with conditioner before grabbing the bar of soap and getting to work. While his clothes took the brunt of the damage, he was still sweaty and felt disgusting. He worked his way down, starting at his shoulders and then moving down his arms, scrubbing his armpits harshly. 

He was gentle around his chest, fingers trailing along the edges of the long, jagged scar in the center of his chest. He didn’t _hate it,_ per say—scars were something to be honored, especially when you were a member of the Order. They were marks that you survived, usually against all odds, as most came from demon attacks. He had other scars--ranging from thin nicks from Credo’s blade during training, to the band of silvery skin where his arm had been severed all those months ago. 

But those were much less noticeable, especially against his already pale skin. The scar Agnus had left was not only large, but it hadn’t healed properly. On a good day, he could ignore the raised bumps and knotted skin, but on other days, he couldn’t help but think his chest looked like a gnarled tree trunk. Seeing it dragged up memories of being pinned to the wall like a butterfly on display, of feeling Yamato’s power pulse in his hand, hearing his own voice reverberate with energy he didn’t fully understand.

Nero shook his head, hands falling to his side. He didn’t need to linger on that, now. Agnus was rotting in Hell where he belonged, and he’d like to believe he’d grown past most of the negative thoughts about himself. It wasn’t like he’d rather be _dead,_ but… for a long time, he struggled with seeing evidence that he should have joined the many soldiers that had died in the wake of Sanctus’ megalomaniac rampage.

Lowering himself to sit at the bottom of the tub, Nero let the shower’s spray work its magic on his back as he cleaned his legs, groaning as he could finally relax his tired muscles. He’d gone longer without rest in the past, even _longer_ without a shower, but it felt fucking _incredible_ to rest after such a long day, gentle pleasure pooling in his stomach.

Finished with his legs and feet, Nero blushed as he realized he was half-hard, his dick beginning to rise. He sat and stared at it for a few seconds, torn on whether or not he should ignore it and finish cleaning up. 

While growing up, the church had drilled what they considered sins into the islanders’ heads. While consorting with demons and betraying the church were, obviously, the number one offenders, they had strict ideas about sex as well. No sex until marriage, and no self-pleasuring at all. It was a sin to give into such ‘devilish’ desires, and they were all better than that. 

Normally, Nero would have silently disagreed before wandering off to do exactly what the church said _not_ to do, but… well, that was one of the few things he listened to. He didn’t have a specific reason for it but, thinking back on it, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with exploring himself. He already knew he was fucked up the moment he was dropped off at the orphanage, he didn’t need to dig any deeper for more proof. Combine that with gaining his Devil Bringer, as well as the myriad of badly-healed scars, and doing anything with his body other than fighting seemed like a poorly-thought venture.

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t done _anything._ He’d done it once, about a week before the attack that caused his arm to change. He was supposed to be cleaning the bathroom as punishment for something stupid, he couldn’t remember what, and he figured, if he was already being punished, why not break a few more ‘holy rules.’ It was embarrassing, and the risk of getting caught nearly stole any pleasure he could get out of it. 

He said nearly because, when he finished, his vision whited out and it took him a good ten minutes to collect himself, and he felt distinctly boneless for the rest of the evening. He felt good for a day or so, more relaxed, and then he was back to being his distinctly grumpy self.

So… he supposed this would be a good enough opportunity, if he really did want to relax. After all, when would he have the house to himself like this again? While Kyrie and the kids could understand a locked door meant ‘don’t come in,’ Nico didn’t seem to care, and he’d sooner get stabbed by Vergil again than get caught by her.

“Okay.” Nero whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the shower’s relentless spray against his back. Nero put the bar of soap on the tub’s edge and spun around, plugging the drain before leaning against the edge of the tub. The showerhead was pointed so that the spray would hit the center of the tub, so it was hitting near the bend of his knee, and it wouldn’t be nearly as annoying once the tub filled up again “Okay, so…”

Before, eighteen and spiteful, he did it quickly and hoped he was doing it right, or that he’d get bored of it before someone walked in to find him breaking one of the bigger sins on the island. Now, nearly twenty-five in the privacy of his own house without the Order breathing down his neck, he wanted to enjoy this.

So, he started simple, wrapping his fingers around the base and squeezing as he brought his hand up and down. He hissed at the friction, skin slick from the water, sparks of pleasure lighting up the path his hand made. He squirmed, his heels digging into the porcelain as his senses reeled. 

Okay, he—he could do that again. No problem.

Another stroke, then another, and Nero was panting. It felt—felt _good._ Intoxicating. He didn’t have time to appreciate this when he was younger, blindly chasing after something he didn’t fully understand. 

Pressing his lips together, Nero braced himself, then thrust into his own grip. His feet nearly shot out from underneath him, a combination of the soap still clinging to his skin and his brain shorting out. His moan echoed around the bathroom, and he brought his free hand up to bite on his knuckles, whimpering as he tried to scrape his scattered brain into something that could actually _function_.

“Fuck,” Nero wheezed, sitting upright again as he went back to stroking himself, twisting his wrist every now and again, pleasure shooting up his spine and lighting his mind aflame. A deep rumble came from his chest as energy coalesced around him.

Something sharp trailed across his chest, and Nero startled. Somehow, without realizing it, he’d summoned his wings, his claws trailing down his chest. Nero frowned, about to dismiss them when they brushed over his nipples, a confused whimper leaving him as small, sharp pricks of pleasure lanced through his chest. His claws repeated the action, then pinched them, pulling the tips away from his chest, and Nero arched his back, mouth open in a silent moan. 

“That’s—unfair.” He choked out, and he swore he could hear his own voice, distorted by demonic energy, laughing in his head. Apparently his demon had a few clues about what would feel good, which was weird if he thought about it too hard.

Thankfully, his brain wasn’t exactly focused on _thinking_ at the moment. Breathing heavily through his nose, Nero let out a few, little whimpers as he continued stroking, his claws playing with his nipples and occasionally dragging thin, red lines up his abs. The marks were barely visible against his flushed skin, and they didn’t last long, healing almost instantly, but the brief sparks of pain mixed with pleasure and made his head spin.

Nero’s mind drifted as he writhed in the bathtub, the cool porcelain a harsh contrast against his overheated body. He imagined that his hand wasn’t his own, that there was someone hovering over him, smirking down at him while he brought himself closer and closer to the edge. Someone at his back, nails dragging over the marks his claws had left behind, nibbling at his shoulder, his earlobe, his nape, and he was _there._ His stomach tightened, his toes curled, his claws dug into his skin _just_ hard enough to draw blood—

And he swore he could hear Dante chuckle behind him, and Vergil whispering huskily into his ear, _“We would be happy to have you.”_

Nero’s eyes widened as he came with a strangled moan, back arching so hard he was certain he’d feel it tomorrow as his release splattered against his chest. His wings fizzled, flickering between solid and a vague cloud of vibrant blue energy before fading entirely, the punctures they left healing seconds after they vanished. Pleasure and mortification settled in his belly, more of the latter than the former, as curled forward to pull the plug, the last evidence of the day's activity swirling down the drain.

And as he laid there, staring up at the ceiling, the spray stinging against his stomach as steam curled in the air above him, Nero realized there was no distance he could run to escape how utterly fucked he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Julio Kyle or Carlo are ooc i’m SO SORRY i haven’t read before the nightmare and I basically know 0% of their character other than they are Kids and Orphans and the wiki has literally nothing on them other than being mentioned repeatedly in Nero’s biography.
> 
> In other news, I am SOOOO glad to be posting Impulse Control’s sequel! I can’t wait to see how all of y’all react to this MONSTROSITY of a first chapter. Don’t worry, we’re only going to have more fun from here on out ;)
> 
> When's the next chapter coming? I dunno, hopefully soon. Either way, hope you guys are ready to see the good ol' red and blue boys ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again! Everyone ready for more Nero angst?
> 
> You may have noticed that the chapter amount has increased from 4 to 5! This is less about length (this chapter’s already a lengthy bitch as is) and more about me restructuring the story. Originally, this chapter was going to have Dante, Vergil, and Nero all make up, but I’ve pushed that to the next chapter for multiple reasons:
> 
> \- I didn’t want to rush the boys making up, especially after the events of Impulse Control. DVN (especially VN) needs a bit more time to cook in the oven.
> 
> \- Considering what this chapter has, it would feel really, _really_ out of place to have the boys all make up right now. This became somewhat of a set-up/transitional chapter with Nero development, so now, instead of having really rushed apologies at the very end out of nowhere, the next chapter can be solely devoted to that.
> 
> \- This chapter, if I included everything I had planned originally, would’ve been gone on and on and _on._ I know that long chapters aren’t frowned upon in fanfiction, but there’s a difference between “this feels right” and “this feels unnecessary.” Plus, the cutting point would’ve felt awkward. This chapter has a solid arc, and now, so will the next chapter.
> 
> SO the boys making up has been pushed to the next chapter, an additional chapter has been added to compensate for this. Either way, this chapter’s going to be some more fun for Nero before we get to the real juicy MEAT of this story. I am very excited ;)

Nero spent the next week feeling like a living pile of slime. He couldn’t look Kyrie or Nico in the eye, and he knew that  _ they _ knew something was up. Even the kids could tell something was wrong, giving him not-so-subtle glances over dinner. Julio even got the courage to ask him what was up and, though Nero couldn’t give him a straight answer, he did thank Julio for checking up on him.

It was like, the moment he…  _ finished _ in the shower, everything he’d been trying to ignore came rushing to the front of his mind. His thoughts were consumed by Dante, and Vergil, and what Nero wanted to  _ do _ to Dante and Vergil. 

For the first time in Nero’s entire life, he could _maybe_ concede that the church had a point with banning ‘self-pleasure’ if it led to shitty aftermaths like this. He’d have a moment of silence where his thoughts would drift, and then he’d suddenly think about Dante’s smile, or Vergil’s glare, and then he’d have to hastily buckle his coat before someone saw the bulge in his pants.

When he wasn’t cleaning his weapons or biding his time with chores or other, self-assigned tasks (which, at this point, he was running out of), his mind never failed to drift to those brief seconds he saw Dante and Vergil together. He fell asleep to dreams of imaginary touches and words, flashes of blue and red and white, his body writhing between them before he wakes up harder than steel. His days were spent on a constant hair trigger, a slight breeze enough to encourage stimulation and get him raring to go, his thoughts spiralling into debauchery. 

And, without fail, once he realized what his own traitorous body was doing, he cursed wildly, restraining the urge to kick something. Why did this shit always have to happen to him? Why couldn’t his body and mind have made an agreement on incest being a bad thing and moved on? How the everyloving  _ fuck _ was he ever supposed to work alongside Dante and Vergil again if he was probably going to get hard the moment he saw them?

Nero didn’t have the solutions to any of these problems—he doubted  _ anyone _ would—so he did what he did best: ignore them as best as possible and hope they went away. He dove into the jobs Kyrie brought him with a fervor that bordered on alarming. He dragged fights out for as long as possible, using the time to practice using his Devil Breakers with his newly acquired trigger, because the longer he was occupied, the less time he’d have to think about  _ things. _

In other words, all he was doing was slapping a piece of tape to a blown-up dam and hoping that the flood would stop if he just waited it out.

…God, he was  _ terrible _ at metaphors. Similes? He didn’t pay enough attention in school for this shit. 

Kyrie didn’t question his distracted behavior outright, but she was never one for big, grand gestures of affection. Instead, she showed her concern with smaller, more intimate actions. She cooked his favorite meals whenever he came back from a job, and would place her hand on his back when he was starting to get tense. Sometimes, she’d approach him without saying anything and simply place a hand on his shoulder, or give him a gentle kiss on his forehead. Small things, all things he appreciated and adored, but… 

Nero tried to feel the same emotions he felt towards Vergil and Dante—love or lust or  _ whatever _ it was his stupid soul had settled on feeling—and apply them Kyrie. He held onto the warmth in his chest from her gentle affection. He imagined kissing her, or taking her on a date to the pizzeria Nico had taken the kids to. He listened to her laughter and memorized her soft smile, and the way the sun would sometimes hit her hair  _ just _ right to create a fiery halo around her head.

And yeah, Kyrie would always be a pillar of safety and love all throughout his life, and Nero would have to be blind not to see how beautiful she was, but it wasn’t the same. He loved her, and always would, but he didn’t  _ love  _ her. At the very least, he didn't feel the same way about her as he did Dante and Vergil. 

The realization made his heart sink to his stomach, and it took all his focus to simply smile at her and act as if nothing was wrong, despite feeling like his life had become one big, complicated lie of ‘being fine.’

* * *

Nero managed another week of diving into whatever jobs the Order would hand him (with Nico and Kyrie looking more and more concerned by the day) before they got a call. From the van’s phone.

“Sorry for interrupting your vacation. If I knew your home number, I would’ve called that one.” Morrison’s smoker-rough voice came through the speaker, even scratchier than usual with static laced between his words.

“It’s fine.” Nero replied, keeping his tone carefully neutral. He and Morrison were, arguably, on good terms, but if this turned into a weird boss-client therapy chat about him leaving, he was going to hang up, good relationship be damned. “So, what’s up?”

Morrison chuckled. “Got a job for ya, if you’re willing to take it.”

The job wasn’t on the world-ending scale, but it was important _. _ A bunch of bored teens decided to fuck around with a summoning circle out in a rural town about a two hour’s drive out from Capulet. They thought the circle was bogus and it’d be a fun evening where they could call upon their ancestor’s spirits or some shit.

Of course, it was all fun and games until a giant rock spider came hissing out of the gate and ate some of them. According to Morrison, taking care of a gate wasn’t a problem, especially temporary ones, but the teens fucked the circle up  _ just _ enough that it would stay open without direct intervention, and it had been left open for a couple days while the townsfolk evacuated.

The job, on paper, was simple: kill the demon, close the gate, and maybe give a seminar at the high schools on why you _shouldn’t_ spend your free time summoning demons, ‘for the lulz.’ Problem was, with the gate left open, even _more_ demons had come crawling out of the Underworld to have some fun. On top of that, the town was _big,_ with plenty of open farms and forests, filled with nooks and crannies to hide in. They could close the central gate easily with Yamato, but checking through each area of the town and taking out the settled demons was going to take a few days, at the very least. 

Of course, if they wanted the job to get finished quicker, they at least needed Nico’s help driving everyone around. And, since they already needed Nico, why not have Nero join to cover more ground, and help take out any extra powerful demons? 

To be honest, Nero nearly turned the offer down. He’d obviously let Nico know and let her decide whether she wanted to help or not, but he wouldn’t go. It was too soon after he fled, and it was obvious he’d have to work with Vergil, because the day he parted with the Yamato would be the day he’d die, and Dante, because wherever Vergil went, Dante was bound to follow.

But then Morrison mentioned the total pay, and how Nero would get a larger cut than the others to cover himself and Nico. It was more than every Order job he’d been offered since coming back, though that didn’t really surprise him. Most of the jobs he got had an underlying current of “if you help us, we won’t run you out of town or try to kill you outright.”

Either way, that kind of money wasn’t something he could turn away from. It’d be a big help for… well, everyone. Kyrie could buy food and things for the kids without worrying, Nico could purchase some things to improve the van, and Nero?

Well, maybe he’d get some halfway decent fights out of going, since he was going to give a majority of his money to the girls. Maybe he could get some new clothes, seeing as he still hadn’t gotten his stuff from the office back, and he probably did need a new… everything, really.

“Okay, we’ll try and get the earliest ferry to the mainland.” They wouldn’t appreciate having a last-minute addition, but if Nero said it was about demon hunting, odds were they’d be a bit more sympathetic. “If we’re not on the mainland this evening, expect us tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell ‘em not to leave ‘til ya get here.” Morrison chuckled again. “I figure Dante and the crazy bitches oughta be antsy enough no matter when you’ll show up. Take care, Nero.”

“I will. Thanks.” Nero hung up the phone and glanced over at Nico, who had a toothy grin on her face. “Welp, you heard him, let’s gear up.”

Nico decided to figure out the issue of the ferry while Nero packed his stuff, letting Kyrie and the kids know what was happening. He got plenty of hugs from all of them, Kyle insisting that he had to have at least one good story for them when he came back.

“You sure you’re okay enough to do this?” Kyrie asked later, when the kids had decided that the time for goodbyes was over, until he and Nico pulled out of the garage. “It’s so soon, I thought you’d need longer…”

“I’m good.” He lied, because he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to face his family again, especially with the past week spent ignoring his emotions and simultaneously dissecting them, trying to find each  _ wrong _ thing to ignore them even harder. “Besides, this is what I said I wanted to do, right? If a big job happened, I’d have to be willing to work with them. This is a big job, with a good pay, and it doesn’t seem like the end of the world yet, but who knows with demon stuff.”

Kyrie let out a sigh that, for a normal human, would probably be inaudible. But Nero wasn’t normal—at least, not normal enough—and he did his best not to flinch when her hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Nero. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” Because he did, and he knew it was the truth. And that truth made his stomach twist itself into knots, because she  _ shouldn’t. _

“And you know I love you, and I’ll keep loving you, no matter what happens?”

“Yeah.” Nero said, brushing some of Kyrie’s hard behind her ear as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. His voice was strained and, if asked later, he’d say it was only because he was feeling too much, or that something so honest was overwhelming for him, not that he was trying not to throw up.

Kyrie smiled and pulled away, her eyes noticeably wet, and panic flared, fire bright in Nero’s chest. What did he do? Did he say something wrong? 

Before he could say anything, Kyrie hastily wiped at her eyes, and managed to choke out, “Come back in one piece, Nero. Promise me you will.”

“Always.” He didn’t reach out this time and, when she left the room, he could only feel a hollow emptiness forming in his chest.

* * *

Thankfully, when Nico went down to the docks, there was a ferry about to leave that had a couple open spots, so it wasn’t hard to convince the captain to let them on with a slightly higher than average priced ticket. The current plan was that he and Nico would sleep in the van at the dock, then head to the office in the morning before heading to the job. 

The ferry ride was long and uneventful, except for the countless sideyes he got from Nico when she wasn’t looking at her phone. Nero spent most of his time polishing his weapons, making sure Blue Rose’s chambers were clean, while Red Queen got a nice sharpening and topped up on propellant. 

Maybe he should’ve been doing something more than sitting around doing menial work, because hours after the ferry docked and they found a place to park the van, Nero couldn’t fucking sleep.

Not for lack of trying, of course. He tried laying there for a while, then wiggling around to find a better position. He tried listening to the white noise of ocean waves slowly washing up to shore, counting sheep, thinking of lullabies, before finally settling on staring straight up and mentally cursing, his jaw tense.

A disgruntled groan came from the driver’s seat, and Nico slunk out, her gait heavy and uneven. Nero could see, even in the darkness of the van’s unlit interior, that she was scowling, heavy bags hanging under her eyes. He kept still, not wanting to let her know she was up, but watching as she stumbled over to the tiny kitchen and pawed around the cupboards until she found the handle. She probably just woke up from a dream or something, didn’t need to bother with him—

“I know yer up, Nero. Yer eyes ‘r glowin’.”

Nero flinched at her comparatively loud voice in the silence of the night, carefully sitting up. He held his hands up, the blanket Kyrie knit him sliding into his lap. “Caught me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are you just gonna sit there like a pansy, or could you flick on the lights so I can make hot cocoa.” Nero shrugged, summoning one of his wings to stretch across and above Nico’s head and a bit forward, like a flashlight. “Not what I asked for, but thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Nero yawned. Fucking insomnia. “Why’re you up?”

“‘M horny.” Nero choked on his tongue, his spectral arm jerking as he tried to overcome his mortification. Nico maintained her neutral, too-tired-to-care expression as she searched for the cocoa powder for a few more seconds before a little chuckle broke free. “Nah, just kiddin’. Well, not really. I’m always hankering for some hanky panky, but that’s not why I can’t sleep.”

“Are all mainlanders like you? They don’t give a shit about privacy and keeping things behind closed doors?” Nero blurted out, watching as Nico turned and went to the freezer, the bright, artificial light near-blinding.

“Now  _ that _ sounded like you have some pent up shit to talk about.” Nico chuckled as she pulled out a carton of milk, but kept the door open. “S’that why you’ve been weird the past couple days? You got a taste of mainlander sexiness and you can’t keep it in your pants, but can’t bring it up around Kyrie?”

“No! I—I don’t know.” He did, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was telling  _ Nico _ of all people his troubles. “I just… feel  _ weird. _ And I don’t want you or Kyrie to think that you’re the problem, but I don’t know how to talk about it, so I—”

“You’ve been playing it all ‘cool’ and ‘macho’ and just decided to ignore it?” Nico grabbed two cups from another cupboard before mixing milk and cocoa together, popping open the nearby microwave. “I mean, I get it, sort of. Didn’t want to talk about my dad ‘n shit when I learned about what he did to my mom ‘n I, but  _ damn, _ that didn’t do shit. I felt like ass every time I thought about it, and it wasn’t until I talked to my ma ‘bout it that I felt a bit better.”

“No offense, but your daddy issues and my da—my  _ issues _ aren’t the same.”

“So it  _ is _ ‘bout your dad.” Nico said over the hum of the old microwave, not missing his slip-up. “Y’nervous to see him?”

She hit the nail maybe a  _ bit _ too close to the head with that one. Because, even if this whole complicated mess of  _ feelings _ and  _ desires _ and  _ sins _ hadn’t reared its ugly fucking head, he was nervous to see Vergil again. He still didn’t understand his dad—didn’t know if he  _ wanted _ to understand his dad. Combine that with Dante’s shit and his own shit and the fear of doing something stupid, irreversable, and frankly  _ bad, _ and you had Nero’s shitty head right now.

“I guess.” He said instead of all of that, because there was no way he  _ could _ say that. “What about you? You nervous to see Dante again?”

“I mean, Dante’s cool ‘n all, but I can keep my cool.” Nico paused as the microwave beeped, and she pulled out two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, passing one to Nero. “Let me tell ya, I’ve got a new Devil Breaker cooking that could knock your old pop out in one hit.”

“Bullshit.”

“No shit! Well, maybe a little bit a shit. It won’t kill him or anything, and I don’t  _ think _ it’ll knock him out on it’s own, but it should weaken him. Make him easier to take down, if you gotta.”

That… sounded promising. At the very least, it was something Nero wanted on-hand, in case Vergil tried anything. “How far along is it?”

Nico gave him a shit-eatting grin. “Got a prototype in the safe over there.” She cocked her head towards the work table, where there was, indeed, a safe for the more… volatile ingredients she used, which was ominous as shit. “Haven’t tested it yet, but it  _ should _ work. I’ll give it to ya before we start driving tomorrow, just so I can make sure it works properly.”

Nero raised his eyebrows as he took a sip from the cocoa—molten hot, burning his tongue, but it was  _ so _ worth it for the taste alone. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“Yeah yeah, just bring me something good from the job and we’ll call it even.” Nico patted his shoulder before shotgunning her hot cocoa, a pained grimace crossing her face before she hastily lowered it, coughing into her hand. Nero patted her back, trying to hold back his chuckles as she frantically waved her hand toward her open mouth. “Hoo shib, bink I burnt my bongue.”

Nero guffawed and leaned back, breathing harshly as he tried to keep himself under some control. Nico turned to glare at him, but her offended expression combined with her sticking her somewhat burned tongue out broke him. He laughed, long and hard, until his sides started to ache and then some. “Oh my god, Nico, you’re killing me.”

Nico smacked his arm, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Bon’t baugh!”

“P-Please, please don’t talk—” Nero desperately gasped for air. “Or—Or talk like that forever. Holy shit. It isn’t my birthday, but this is the best gift you could’ve given me.”

Nico flipped him off before storming back to the driver’s seat, grumpily pulling her blanket over her shoulder. With the cocoa soothing his stomach, his shoulders just a  _ tad  _ lighter, Nero fell into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.

* * *

The next day started off tolerably, to say the least. They managed to get a not-so-healthy breakfast from a fast food place, Nico taking bites between her checking her new Breaker.

Despite the teasing last night, Nico handed it over with flourish. The metal was a slightly-off white with blue streaks, various, deliberately cut holes in the metal casing, but not the main hand. The design itself didn’t give Nero any clues, and when he looked to Nico, she just gave him a warning. “After you activate it, try to get away from it. You’ll want some distance when this thing goes off.”

Which told him nothing about what the thing actually  _ did. _ Nero wondered if he  _ really _ wanted to use this thing, especially if there was a chance it could harm him. She didn’t even say that when he was given punchline, which was essentially a god damn  _ missile. _

Then again, if Vergil tried to stab him or something, evening the playing field seemed like a better idea than being on the receiving end of a guaranteed ass-kicking. Nero strapped it to his belt, but otherwise didn’t mess around with it, making sure his coat hid it well.

Finally, after they had their fill of cheap mainlander food, they made their way to Devil May Cry, Nico only just barely obeying the traffic laws. Pulling up to the flickering neon sign, Nico honked rapidly, laying down on the horn after a few minutes passed.

After a good thirty seconds of  _ that, _ Nico leaned back with a huff. “Can’t believe that, when we come here outta the goodness of our heart, they don’t come runnin’ to greet us.”

Nero didn’t respond, too busy trying to see what was happening inside through the windows, bouncing his leg in an attempt to burn off some of his restless energy. 

Nico shoved his shoulder. “Quit jiggling, you’re gonna stomp a hole in the floor.”

“No I’m not.”

“If you keep jiggling your damn leg you will.”

Nero turned his head and gave her the most unimpressed look he could muster. “Nico, I’m not kicking a hole in the van.”

“Ah! The only one who said kick was you. Stomping is  _ totally _ different.”

“You want me to show you the difference between—”

The door to the van opened and Trish breezed in, settling in one of the van’s couches with a poise that only Trish could properly execute. “Those two are  _ insufferable.” _

Nero rolled his eyes, then pitched up his voice to imitate Trish’s. “‘Hello Nero, Nico, I’m happy to see you two are well. How are the kids?’ Glad to see you too, Trish. The kids are great! Carlo painted a hand turkey a couple days ago that was the cutest thing and we still have it pinned to the fridge.”

“What hand turkey?” Nico asked. “Carlo didn’t paint no fuckin’ hand turkey.”

“I know he didn’t, but I just needed something to talk about that Trish could kind of understand.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ha ha.” Nico laughed at him, managing to poke his cheek before he lightly smacked her hand away. “Anyways, what’s going on? Figured Dante would be all gung ho about a job this big.”

“He was up until this morning. Morrison told him that you two were coming along to give us a ride, and both of them started pitching fits.”

Nero’s stomach plummeted as Nico let out an incredulous noise. “What the hell? They ain’t glad they’re getting a free ride?”

“That’s what Lady and I were trying to figure out. You’d figure Dante would be grateful to not have a cut of his pay sent to a random cabbie.” Trish examined her nails, glancing at Nero out of the corner of her eye. Before she could elaborate further, the van door slammed open, and Lady stomped in, grumbling under her breath as she placed Kalina Ann on the table. “So?”

Lady glared at Trish, then turned to Nico. “If they’re not out in five minutes, just go.”

“Seriously?”

“They can fly, can’t they? If they want to be stubborn, then they can be stubborn and stay behind.” Lady flopped down next to Trish, leaning against her side. Trish slung her arm around Lady’s shoulders, gently brushing her hair with her fingers. “We don’t  _ need _ the Yamato to destroy the gate, it just makes it easier and ensures that it’ll be harder for anything to sneak through again.”

“So… Instead of doing a thorough job and making sure it can’t happen again easily, we’re doing a standard job. All because they… what, don’t want to be in the van?”

“Sure, for all I know.” Lady threw her arms up in exasperation before letting them drop onto her stomach. “The two of them wouldn’t say anything and were acting like entitled brats. I don’t know what’s wrong with them.”

“Well, I have a theory. Nothing concrete, but better than nothing.” Trish paused for dramatic effect, then said, “I went to visit the office about a week ago to talk to Nero, only to find the two of them. When I asked where you went, Dante and Vergil looked like they were trying to not maul each other when they said you left.

“So, I guess the real question is…” Trish leaned forward as far as she could without dislodging Lady, sending Nero a coy grin. “What did  _ you _ do to make them so cagey?”

Nero felt the blood drain from his face, and he hastily looked away as Nico let out an annoyed. “What did  _ he _ do?”

“Hey, if that’s the case, maybe Nero should go and talk to them!” Lady said exasperatedly. “Maybe you can get through their thick sk—”

The door to the van squeaked open and, with careful, near-inaudible steps, Vergil entered the van, his thumb running over Yamato’s tsuba. He looked around the interior, his eyes lingering on Nero for a fraction of a second longer before he took the seat furthest in the back, and as far away from Lady and Trish as he could get. 

The moment he settled, Dante clambered in as well, closing the door behind him. He flopped down into the nearest seat, sprawling across it like a lazy cat, practically throwing himself into Vergil’s lap. Nero caught a quick glance of Dante’s smug smirk before he forced himself to turn around, slouching down in the passenger’s seat as he did his best to ignore the incredibly tense atmosphere that had settled in the air.

“So…” Dante drawled, his voice sending a shiver down Nero’s spine. “Roadtrip?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one section of this chapter that made my soft-bitch self nearly cry bc I was super sad after writing it and I want all of you to guess what it was (some of you on the spardacest server may know the scene already so u are all cheating but I love u all regardless).
> 
> Also I have BARELY edited this so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, I have to start off this chapter by saying CHECK THE TAGS bc i added a whole bunch and hoo boy this chapter has… a lot.
> 
> IT’S ALSO LONG AS FUCK LIKE HOLY SHIT. I had to seriously contemplate adding another fucking chapter and breaking this one into two halves but I was like “no, fuck that, this will feel incomplete if I do that” but in exchange it became SUPER LONG LIKE WTF I’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T EXPECT THIS TO BE AS LARGE AS IT WAS.
> 
> So, uh, I guess enjoy over 10k of this? At the very least, y’all will get some good food at the end, I promise.

Traffic on the main road to town was light, probably because no one in their right mind would be going _towards_ a demon invasion. Nico drove like a maniac once they cleared the outer borders of Capulet, keeping her foot floored more often than not, and they ended up getting past the gaudy ‘Welcome’ sign in less than two hours.

Despite this, the drive felt like an eternity. Nero didn’t have much to occupy himself with, and Nico kept the radio and jukebox off, the silence filled by idle chatter between the three women instead. They were either too techno-babble-y for Nero to follow, or meaningless, idle gossip that he didn’t care for, but they dragged him into their talks from time to time for his opinion on something or other, as if he could give them some magic insight. 

Once they were done pestering him, Nero would take a moment to glance at Dante and Vergil. Most of the time, they were sitting (or, in Dante’s case) laying on the couch silently. Other times, Nero could see their lips moving, but they kept their voices quiet enough so that Nero couldn't hear them, especially over the women’s loud voices. 

And sometimes, when Nero turned around and just so happened to look at the twins, they were watching him. Vergil glared while Dante smirked, their features sharp and inhuman, eyes bright and predatory as they unabashedly stared.

Nero always turned back around when he noticed, feeling like a slab of meat being eyed up for a meal. His stomach twisted itself into nervous knots, and he simply closed his eyes and hoped that Nico didn’t notice how red his cheeks were.

Pulling up to the town, there wasn’t anything that conveyed a demonic invasion, aside from the town’s sudden ghost town status. However, there was this certain _charge_ to the air. Nero could almost compare it to the smell of rainwater or fog, but nowhere near as calming. It was a constant static buzz lingering on the back of his tongue that felt weirdly familiar, but he couldn’t figure out why.

Either way, the mass exodus of the town’s inhabitants meant that the streets were wide, empty, and had the occasional demon roaming across them. Nico, of course, saw this as a golden opportunity, and purposefully went out of her way to hit every demon they found. She swerved wildly, hitting damn near every pothole and little bump along the way. 

“Swear to god, you do this just so I have more to clean up later.” Nero griped as she hit _something,_ a spray of red and yellow covering the windshield, only for the wipers to clean it seconds later. Despite his complaints, Nero took slight pleasure in the hissed swear Vergil let out when Nico sped over a series of holes. He’d long since gotten used to it (though he’d never _like_ it, seeing as he was often the one cleaning up the aftermath), but all their passengers, evidently, had not.

“Naw, I do it cause it’s fun.” Nico said, swinging the van around as she slammed on the breaks, laughing as everyone besides her and Nero yelled as the van precariously tipped on its wheels before slamming back down, the dash ornaments shaking wildly. “But yeah, I do like it when _you_ clean the van. Hell of a better job than I could ever do. Ever thought about doin’ it as a side-job? ‘Devil May Wash’?”

Nero rolled his eyes and stood up, stretching to work out the general ache that had settled in his bones from sitting for so long. He glanced in the back, chuckling when he saw that almost everyone was gripping their seats with white knuckles. “Everyone good?”

“We are flying home, brother.” Vergil said, shoving Dante’s stunned body off his lap. “Or I am making a portal. I refuse to relive that.”

“Hey, I didn’t know she drove like that!” Dante stood up, brushing his jacket off.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Nico demanded next to Nero, turning to glare at Dante over the back of her seat.

Dante held his hands up in surrender, shaking his head. “Nothing, Nico. Don’t worry about it.”

“Uh-huh, _right.”_ Nico turned around, kicking her feet up to rest on top of the steering wheel, picking at her nails.

Lady sighed, picking herself off the floor before she drew a heavily folded map from her pocket. “Well, now that we’re here, let’s talk about where we’re all going—”

“No need.” Vergil said, standing from the couch as he grasped Yamato’s handle. “I will go to the gate and close it, then return to Devil May Cry. The rest can be left to you.”

Trish’s eyes narrowed. “That hardly seems fair.”

“The only reason I am here is to close this farce of a gate so that you needn’t break a nail. The rest of you can satisfy your bloodlust with the meager offerings this town provides.” Vergil opened the door before anyone could object further and exited just as briskly. Nero felt the air pressure shift as a sudden gust nearly tilted the van over again as Vergil’s energy pulled away.

Dante let out an exasperated growl, summoning his sword from the ether before he started for the door. “Gimme a couple minutes with him, alright?”

“Don’t destroy the town, or I’ll slash your pay!” Lady called after him as the door shut. A repeat of Vergil’s departure happened, this time without any gusts of wind, but Nero could feel the temperature rise a few degrees before Dante left. A few awkward seconds ticked by before Nero sighed, rolling his shoulders as he turned to Lady. 

“So, where are we going?”

* * *

In the end, there wasn’t much to discuss. The exact location of the gate was unknown besides a vague “not in the center of town” from the mayor, which… didn’t help. Before they headed out, Lady had found a map of the town online and had circled a few areas that were worth scouting out, what areas would be best covered in pairs rather than alone, and had marked where phone booths, convenience stores, and gas stations were located.

Because Lady would likely need backup in case she ran into anything resistant to gunfire, Nero decided to go on his own and have Trish accompany her. Nico would drive them to some massive farm on the outskirts that required at least two people while Nero would roam the streets, picking off any demons he ran into.

It was hardly an ideal situation, but it was manageable. The only annoying part was that, with Vergil leaving soon after, Dante would likely follow, if only to make sure his brother didn’t do anything stupid like, oh, Nero didn’t know, raising another giant-ass tree to tear apart a city. Once they were gone, Nero would have to stay and give support to Trish and Lady as much as possible, and that meant this job would take even _longer._

Still, there wasn’t much Nero could do about it. He didn’t think yelling at Vergil and Dante to stay would go over well, and it wouldn’t do him any good trying to chase after them when he could spend his time making progress. Plus, with them gone, he and Nico would get an even bigger cut, and he could postpone talking to them about… well, _them,_ and how he felt about it. Small positives, but positives nonetheless. 

About an hour after he left Nico’s van, Nero felt the hell gate shut. It was like when he extended the bridge to Mitis Forest and all the dams lowered, abruptly stopping the waterfall. The energy coating the air stopped so suddenly it disoriented Nero for a few seconds, his brain struggling to figure out how the world had shifted. 

He leaned on a nearby light pole, collecting himself and willing the dizziness to fade before continuing on. If the gate was shut, then that meant Vergil was now probably on his way back to the office, maybe with Dante in tow, maybe not, depending on whatever he wanted to talk to Vergil about. He tried casting out his senses to find them, but only felt Dante’s subtle ebb of energy. Vergil had vanished—likely made a portal back to Capulet and was letting Dante walk home.

For some reason, that bugged him. It shouldn’t have—whatever Vergil did, he did, and he hardly had a say over their little lover spats—but it still wiggled his way into his mind and made him growl. He found a group of Chaoses a few intersections down and charged, Red Queen’s engine revving wildly in his hand as he slashed them to pieces. Strategy was the last thing on his mind, he just wanted to hurt something.

Did Vergil leaving _really_ piss him off this much? Or was he just pissed at himself for being so nervous about seeing him again, only to not even exchange one word with the man before he just left them all behind to eat shit? Despite getting freaked out over leaving Fortuna again and seeing his father, all he did was eye him from across the van and blush like a schoolyard girl with a crush.

 _Coward,_ he berated himself mentally as he spun, facing—

Nothing.

Nero could practically hear a record scratch as his anger was suddenly doused, replaced with confusion. He looked around, reaching out with his demonic senses to confirm that, yeah, there weren’t any more Chaoses. 

He lowered Red Queen until its tip was resting against the road, looking around for any sign of demons. A gate’s destruction wouldn’t mean that all the demons that went through would disappear along with it, right? 

Nero sighed and shook his head, resting Red Queen on his shoulder as he continued down the street. Hopefully the Chaoses were either dead or ran back to Hell with their tails between their legs, and that was that. There weren’t any other demons nearby for Nero to act out his frustrations on, so he couldn’t do much but move forward. Maybe he’d just miscounted, or thought that there were more left over than when he first ran in.

Except it kept happening. He’d run into a group of Hell Antenoras and some Pyrobats, and while he was busy dodging charges, he’d look up to see the clear skies and no streams of fire heading his way. He found a pair of gangly Nobodies, only to end up dealing with just one of them, because the other one vanished into thin fucking air.

And he didn’t mind. Honestly, he didn’t, because no matter what, the number of demons in town were lowering (he hoped) and he could conserve his energy for bigger threats. It was mostly weird, because, in all his years of fighting demons, they never ran away, and maybe he was a little annoyed, because it felt like he was losing his mind.

But then, _then,_ he found a pair of the spider demons that the mayor had mentioned. They were _huge,_ about half the size of the van, maybe a little bigger, and each step shook the ground. They smelled of mud and clay mixed together, loose dirt falling from their legs. Their mandibles clicked as they crawled along the streets, their green eyes as reflective as gemstones.

Nero grinned, revving Red Queen as he bent his knees, charging with a wild yell. The spiders turned and hissed, swinging their front legs at him, but he ducked under their slow strikes, slicing at one of their faces. 

The spider stepped back, covering its face as it lowered its body before leaping into the air, slamming down where Nero was just seconds before. The street cratered under the impact, a few windows cracking from the accompanying boom as the ground shook. Nero kept his footing, summoning his wings to snatch the spider and throw himself forward, stabbing Red Queen down on its back and pushing as hard as he could.

Standing on its back now, Nero had two quick revelations. The first was the spider was not covered in dirt, like he initially assumed. The main body was made of rocks, kept together with hardened mud and clay. The dirt that had fallen off was part of its body, shaken loose from moving around.

The second was that the second spider had _also_ leapt into the air, and was currently barreling down towards Nero and its buddy.

_Shit._

Acting on instinct, Nero’s spectral arms slammed down on the first spider and flung himself away. As that was happening, Nero grabbed Gerbera from his belt and quickly activated it, throwing himself further before he could experience the joys of being a sandwich.

A heavy boom slammed into Nero like a freight train, accompanied by a spray of mud and shattered rocks that pelted Nero’s face and exposed arms. Too stunned to recover, Nero tucked and rolled across the street, coming to a stop a good twenty feet away before he sluggishly got to his feet.

Wiping some of the dirt off his face, Nero looked to where the spiders were. There was only one now, slowly turning to face him as it trampled over the remains of his buddy, who was now a pile of dirt. Nero could make out the remains of its eyes, which were _actual_ gemstones, scattered like colored glass across the tar.

Nero chuckled, wiggling his fingers as he started to charge Gerbera. These things were a lot hardier than Nero thought they would be. As he raised the Breaker, the metallic panels sliding seamlessly into place, Nero doubted that something made out of dirt and rocks could withstand a laser blast to the face. 

The spider hissed, raising its front legs up to try and intimidate him—

And then screeching as the air surrounding it distorted briefly, clean lines cutting through various points of its body before crumpling to dust. Nero stared for a few seconds, his jaw hanging open in shock before he snapped it shut, grinding his teeth.

He knew what had killed the spider. He knew _exactly_ what that was. He didn’t dodge all of those fucking Judgement Cuts on top of the Qliphoth only to forget what they looked like.

With an enraged yell, Nero yanked Gerbera off his arm, tossing it towards the two spider’s remains as it imploded, the energy too volatile for it to contain, but no final command to burn it off safely. The spiders’ remains blackened into soot from the sudden heat, but Nero couldn’t care less, turning with barely restrained rage towards where the attack came from.

“Vergil!” He shouted, stepping closer when he didn’t get an immediate response. “Come out, you jackass! I know you’re here!”

A few seconds passed before Nero felt Vergil’s energy unfold, like a flower blooming, and he appeared atop the building in front of Nero, looking down at him like he was a pest. “Yes?”

 _“You fucker.”_ Nero hissed, snapping one of his spectral arms out and grabbing Vergil before he could dodge away, dragging him down and slamming him into the ground. “How long have you been following me?”

With a grunt, Vergil stabbed a spectral sword through Nero’s spectral arm, the odd resonance of pain-not-pain forcing Nero to dismiss them. Freed from Nero’s hold, Vergil stood up, brushing some invisible dust off his coat. “If you _must_ know, since I dismissed the gate.”

“I thought you were leaving. I thought you already _left.”_

“I changed my mind.” Vergil shrugged, examining his nails as he continued. “Once I closed the gate, I left Dante to deal with the stragglers while I went to you. You’re not exactly inconspicuous with your energy spiking so wildly.”

“So, what, you decided that you’d just kill the things I’m fighting for shits and giggles?” Nero seethed, his pulse pounding in his head. He was furious, almost irrationally so, but right now he was struggling to not shoot Vergil right in his stupid, smug face.

Of course, Vergil decided to ignore the obvious signs of Nero’s rage, and continued. “You were clearly struggling against them, so I thought I would lend you my assistance—”

Nero charged forward with a roar, energy crackling across his skin as his body triggered. Vergil’s form blurred as he dashed to the side, dodging Nero’s furious swipe with his claws. Nero turned, growling deep in his chest as he drew Red Queen, his spectral arms raised above his head, claws poised to strike. “I am _not_ weak!”

Vergil laughed mockingly, making a show of drawing Yamato from its sheath and lowering his body into a crouch. “I beg to differ.” 

They both charged, their swords singing as they clashed. The fight blurred into one long stretch of violence and shouting, his too-sharp senses getting overloaded. He put no real thought behind his actions, his mind hyper-focused on wiping the smug grin off his father’s face. A red haze coated his vision, his demon baying for blood, retribution, he insulted us, he will _pay—_

Vergil swiped at Red Queen, knocking it out of Nero’s hand. Before Nero could snatch it, Vergil darted back and got a Judgement Cut off, the impact throwing Nero against one of the buildings. He snarled, about to kick off the wall, but a Summoned Sword pierced through his left shoulder, anchoring him in place.

Nero snarled, reaching up to pull the sword out, only for Vergil to dash forward and slice his palm with Yamato. Before Nero could retaliate, Yamato’s tip pressed against his throat, a whisper of a promise.

“Sloppy.” Vergil stated, ignoring Nero’s furious growl. He went to kick Vergil away, but another Summoned Sword pinned it to the sidewalk. “If your skills were more refined, you may have landed a hit.”

He stepped closer, and Nero’s fingers twitched, his claws raking deep lines in the brickwork behind him. Yamato’s edge slid against his throat, the demonic steel as cold as ice. A constant growl rumbled in his throat, and Nero ground his teeth together, refusing to say anything as he trembled with barely restrained rage. 

“Still, it’s hard to deny that you are certainly… _unique_ compared to Dante or I. You’re worthy of admiration, to a certain extent.” Vergil stopped with only a foot of space between them, eyes raking up and down Nero’s body. He tilted his head and let out a little huff, the corners of his lips twitching up in a faint imitation of a smile. “What, no sharp retort? No rebuttals or demands of acceptance?”

Nero snarled, a furious hiss hooked onto the end. Completely inhuman, yet somehow conveying his ire perfectly. Fucker didn’t deserve words—he’d just get some funky animal noises and figure it out from there.

Vergil laughed in his face. “Ah, you’re letting your instincts guide you. Understandable, considering how young you are, but a foolish path to take now. I wonder, just how much control do you have?”

 _Fuck you,_ Nero thought as he swiped out with his hand. Vergil brought the Yamato away from Nero’s neck to slice at his palm once again, and Nero lunged forward as much as he could with his shoulder still pinned. He ignored the new, bright pain as the wound opened further under the strain as he reached out with one of his free spectral hand, managing to grab Vergil’s shoulder to drag him closer.

To Nero’s surprise, Vergil moved with his insistent tug. He didn’t linger on that for long, instead attempting to bite Vergil’s neck, wanting nothing more than to rip out his throat and watch him choke.

Instead, Vergil tilted his head down and leaned closer, just in time for Nero’s mouth to find his lips. He didn’t wait, biting down on Vergil’s lip to hurt him as best he could. The thin flesh gave way easily, a hot pulse of blood gushing forth and landing on Nero’s tongue.

Vergil’s blood buzzed with power, thick and sweet; almost like honey, but with a sour tang that lingered pleasantly on the back of his tongue. He was hooked in an instant, and he pressed closer, focused on drinking as much as possible and reveling in the heady flavor. 

Vergil opened his mouth further, slipping his tongue into Nero’s open mouth, purposefully cutting it on Nero’s teeth. Nero moaned, twining their tongues together, drinking his fill as he cupped Vergil’s side with his free hand to draw him closer, wanting more, more, _more—_

Nero’s trigger faded away, his energy spent, and he suddenly snapped back to himself. His eyes widened, and he pushed Vergil away, coughing and spitting Vergil’s blood out on the street. It coated his tongue, and his throat, and he shivered, frantically searching through his Devil Breakers.

“Not much, evidently.” Vergil continued the conversation from before. “Still, it’s nice to know that not all your feelings towards me are inherently malicious.” 

“Shut up.” Nero hissed out, his voice shaking slightly. Come on, he put it on his damn belt, he was sure of it, of course he couldn’t find it when he needed it… 

“Now now, no need to panic.” Vergil stepped closer again, gently grasping Nero’s chin and turning his head to look him in the eye. His thumb caught some blood that had run down Nero’s lips, and he brought it up to his mouth to lick away. “Blood drinking is hardly a disgusting concept to demons. It sustains us and keeps us heal—”

Nero’s fingers brushed against metal—heavy and cold, something faintly sloshing from within—and he shoved the Devil Breaker on his arm, charging as much energy as he could into it before punching Vergil in the gut. Vergil skidded back and fell to one knee, the Devil Breaker sticking to his stomach before falling to the ground. It hissed, several thin jets of white gas leaving it and pooling around the ground.

Growling, Vergil stood to his full height, glaring at Nero as he brushed off his vest, right where he’d hit him. “That… was unnecessary.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Nero reached up, grabbing the hilt of the Summoned Sword in his shoulder. The raw demonic energy burned through his glove, but he did his best to pull it out, groaning as he did. He’d experienced worse pain before, but the slow slide and constant sparks of energy lashing out and striking bone made it a distinctly uncomfortable experience.

“Are all your insults based around sex?” Vergil scoffed, ignoring the growing cloud of vapor at his feet. “It’s juvenile. Even Dante at your age could conjure more original ma—material…”

Vergil coughed, swaying oddly before he fell to one knee, grasping at his throat. His breathing became raspy, and he managed to choke out, “What… is th-this…?” Before coughing again.

Nero looked on in confusion, trying to take a step forward, only to be stopped by the Summoned Sword still stubbornly piercing his foot. With an annoyed growl, Nero bent down and painstakingly yanked it out, breathing in some of the spreading gas as he did.

His throat burned immediately. He coughed into his elbow, a sudden dizzy spell overtaking him. It reminded him of when he had to attend mass on Fortuna, and they’d swing around the thick-smelling incense that never failed to make him feel sick. The cut in his foot burned as the gas started to pool around his feet, healing at a sluggish pace.

“What the _fuck?”_ Nero wheezed out, drawing his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose. He quickly made his way over to Vergil, who was on his hands and knees, struggling to breathe, and kicked the Devil Breaker away with his uninjured foot. The metal skittered across the tar, and Nero hastily bent down and dragged Vergil up and away from the vapor.

Sitting Vergil up against a car at the end of the block, he looked worse. A cold sweat covered his body, his slicked-back hair starting to fall out of place. His breathing was labored, like he was struggling to get proper breath. His lips and eyelids were starting to swell, to the point where Vergil was struggling to keep them open to breathe and see. There were patches of red covering the exposed parts of his skin, which were starting to bubble.

“Shit.” Nero whispered. _“Shit,_ this is bad. Uh…”

Nero glanced at the street corner’s signs as he tried to remember the map, struggling to figure out where the nearest phone booth was. If he was right, there was one about ten blocks down, which wasn’t _far,_ but it wasn’t nearby, either. If he went to call, he’d either have to leave Vergil alone, potentially leaving him vulnerable to demons, or carry him, which would be slower and leave them _both_ vulnerable.

“God fucking dammit.” Nero grit his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair, looking at Vergil again, who didn’t seem to be improving. Hearing Vergil struggle to take a single breath helped him make a decision.

“Okay, I’m going to call Nico and tell her where we are so that she can pick us up and… hopefully give you an antidote or something. Shit, I don’t know.” Nero bit his lip before he took Blue Rose from its holster, placing it in Vergil’s hand and curling his fingers around it to hold it. Vergil grunted, trying to jerk his hand away from the sudden sensation, which Nero took as a good sign. “If anything comes at you, try to shoot it, alright? I don’t think you’re in any condition to swing Yamato around.”

“N… ro…” Vergil grunted out, managing to open his eyes a sliver before he was forced to close them again.

“I’ll be quick, alright? I swear—five minutes max, then I’ll be back.” Nero coughed into his elbow before he stood, his throat still irritated from the small amount he breathed in. He couldn’t imagine how Vergil felt, his face practically shoved into the damn gas, or whatever it was that Nico had cooked up.

Once they were on the van, he was seriously going to rip her a new asshole over this. But, as he took off at a dead sprint to the nearest phone booth, all he could wonder was how long it would take before Vergil’s condition grew even worse, and he stopped breathing entirely.

* * *

It did not take five minutes to find a phone booth, much to Nero’s mounting panic. A thick band of fly-like demons got in his way, and they were quick little fuckers that refused to let him pass. It took him forever just to take out enough so that he could move around without getting swarmed every two seconds.

He briefly lamented leaving Blue Rose with Vergil—having a gun would have made fighting these stupid fucking flies _leagues_ easier—but he was quickly reminded of how dizzy he felt from just a breath of the gas, and how Vergil couldn’t even open his eyes. There was no way Vergil could walk around, let alone fight off anything with just Yamato. Leaving Blue Rose with him was the best option for giving him a means to defend himself, even if it meant Nero had to rely on Punchline to take out any flying demons.

Covered in bug guts, Nero finally reached a phone booth, practically shoving the quarter in before he punched in the van’s number. He tapped his foot anxiously as it rang once, twice, three times, and halfway through the fourth, she finally picked up. “Look, unless this is an emergency, you’re gonna have to call back in a few minutes—”

“Nico, shut up, and get to… fuck, where amI?” Nero leaned out the phone booth to try and find a sign, only to not see any. “God dammit, I can’t remember the street names. I don’t know where I am. _Fuck,_ Nico, this is all your fault.”

“How the hell is whatever your bitching over _my_ fault?”

“Because it’s your fucking Breaker that made the problem!” Nero banged his fist against the wall of the phone booth, his fingers trembling. “I was fighting Vergil and I used it and the tear gas came out and now he can’t _breathe—”_

“Wait, what tear gas? None of the Breakers have tear gas.”

“I don’t know, whatever gas thing you put in the Breaker! I breathed some in too and I don’t know what it is but it’s killing Vergil and I don’t know what to do, Nico, I don’t want him to _die—”_

“Nero, Nero, you gotta breathe man.” Nero heard her shuffling around a bit and a few sharp clicks before she continued. “The Devil Breaker is essentially a humidifier. When you launch it off, it releases vaporized holy water in the area around it, which dissipates after about a minute. It’s heavily diluted, and it shouldn’t be able to kill you or Vergil.”

Nero let out a laugh that verged on hysterical, coughing at the end. “Tell that to Vergil and his swelling face, Nico. He can’t fucking _breathe_ and I left him alone to get here only to tell you I don’t know where you should go to get him—”

“Nero, Vergil is already in the van.”

“—He could be jumped at any minute and he—” Nero could practically feel his panicked thoughts slam to a stop. “Wait, what?”

“Dante came here a few minutes before you called carrying Vergil in and put him on the couch. I looked him over and… Well, I’m not a doctor or anything, but I’d say he’s okay. He can breathe, he just sounds like shit doing it.”

“He—” Nero pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get his head back on straight. “He couldn’t open his eyes before. They were swelled shut.”

Nero heard a hushed conversation on the other end of the line, then Nico came back. “He can sorta do it? He can’t keep them open for long, says the light bothers him, but I’d say that’s an improvement based on what you’re saying.”

Nero took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He swallowed, wincing at the lingering tang of blood on his tongue. “Why would you put holy water in a Devil Breaker? You realize that thing’s on my arm, right? If it broke or leaked, I could’ve gotten burnt.”

“Hey, I made sure it couldn’t break easily! Besides, it’s effective against demons, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and _I’m_ a demon.” Nero coughed again. “If what happened to Vergil was only with maybe ten seconds of breathing it, I really don’t want to know what would’ve happened if I didn’t kick the thing away and pull him out of the vapor.”

“You _kicked_ it?”

“Yes, Nico, I kicked it. And I don’t want any more of them.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not like Punchline where I can keep the explosion away from me—it’s _air._ If it gets _windy_ it could backfire and take me out. It’s way too risky.”

Nico huffed on the other end of the line. “Alright, alright, I get it. Still, ya didn’t need to kick it.”

“I needed to get it as far away from me as possible without getting my face near it, Nico. Kicking was the best option.”

 _“Fine,_ you ‘needed’ to kick it.” Nico groused. “You want me to try and find ya? It shouldn’t be too hard, there’s only so many phone booths, and you could probably point out a building or two I could find.”

Nero contemplated it. He was exhausted, and he probably wasn’t in the best shape, considering he’d inhaled some holy water and didn’t have Blue Rose. Resting in the van was a good idea, especially since the sun was starting to set.

However, the thought of going back to the van and seeing Vergil’s swollen face, or hearing his raspy breathing as he struggled to say his name, sent a shiver down his spine. Not to mention what happened _before_ the whole Devil Breaker disaster, and how Vergil would possibly needle him about that with Nico acting as the peanut gallery to the whole fiasco. He’d much rather take his chances with the demons, thank you very much.

“Nah, I’ll keep pushing on. Probably find a building to sleep in nearby to wait out the night.” Nero said. “Just… do me a favor and don’t kill Vergil.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” She replied. Nero could imagine the rueful smirk on her face as she hung up, the dial tone droning on before Nero placed it back on its hook.

In the deafening silence that followed, Nero leaned back in the phone booth, sliding down until he was sitting, and then hung his head. There was a slight headache pounding behind his eyes that he was _sure_ would get worse, and he felt disgusting. He couldn’t get rid of the taste of blood on his tongue, or maybe he did, but he couldn’t forget the intoxicating buzz of otherworldly energy.

He hated this. So much. Why couldn’t he just be a _normal_ person, who liked _normal_ things, and didn’t want to kiss his family or like how their blood tastes?

After gathering himself as best he could, Nero left the phone booth. There weren’t any demons nearby—at least, none that he could hear or vaguely sense—so he chose a random direction and walked. The sun was starting to set, the sky becoming a mish-mash of pinks and dusky grays from the thick clouds overhead. 

He needed to find a place to stay, fast. The temperatures would drop drastically once the sun went down and, while he was wearing decently warm clothing, he wasn’t going to last the night if he tried to camp out in an alleyway.

Problem was, unlike Red Grave, which was a big city with plenty of tourist traps and just as many hotels, this town was filled with tiny suburban neighborhoods and not a single building over three stories tall. The odds of Nero finding any place to stay overnight was slim to none, unless he wanted to break into someone’s home, which made him… uncomfortable, to say the least.

After wandering the streets for a good half hour, a good portion of that time spent fighting any demons that crossed his path, Nero managed to find a building that was certainly… something. It was nondescript: plain, beige walls with some faded tags on the sides, a small parking lot in the back, and glass doors that showed a dark interior, with wide alleyways separating it from the other buildings.

Anywhere else, Nero wouldn’t have bat an eye, which… he supposed was the point. It was very much a ‘blank slate’ building, aside from two little things. The first was that this completely unassuming building was flanked by mom-and-pop shops, with quaint little signs that proudly showed the family’s name, which made it stick out like a sore thumb.

The second thing was, above the front door, there was a neon sign that, somehow, managed to be even gaudier than Devil May Cry’s. 

“‘The Landing Strip’?” Nero read aloud. There was a symbol or something at the end of it but, since the sign was off, Nero didn’t have a hope of making it out.

Still, it didn’t look like a store. Maybe it was some airplane enthusiast club? At the very least, Nero might be able to get the lights on and the heating system up, which was better than nothing. Maybe there would be a small couch to sleep on, or a small, semi-comfortable chair. He wasn’t picky, at this point, so long as it was warm.

* * *

It wasn’t an airplane enthusiast club.

The lack of windows meant the building’s interior was pitch black, aside from the faint light from the sunset leaking through the glass door. It wasn’t so dark that Nero couldn’t see at all, but his eyes refused to adjust properly, and he ended up banging his legs against random furniture a few times before he found a light switch.

Said light switch was… decidedly unhelpful. It lit up a long string of blue and violet LED lights lining the main room, as well as some smaller lights above and behind a bar, the counter of which his hip was adequately acquainted with from how many times he bumped into the fucking thing.

Still, it was enough for Nero to see more of the room in detail. There was a stage along the wall furthest from the front entrance, with three metal poles drilled into the floor and ceiling. Stretching out from the middle of the stage was a walkway, another pole at the end, which was a circular platform. Curling around the walkway were many plush, leather couches, spotless and shined to look nearly perfect.

Down a set of pitch-black hallways, there was a set of barely-cleaned bathrooms, the men’s much dirtier than the woman’s, with suspicious stains on the cubicle’s walls. He also found a few rooms with vanities crammed in, lightbulbs screwed in around the mirrors. Hanging on a horizontal pole in the far back were several skimpy, sheer outfits that would make the prostitutes on Fortuna blush.

In this tiny, abandoned, demon-filled rural town, Nero had found what was probably the only strip club in a twenty-mile radius. He was too embarrassed at the fact that he was actually standing there, staring at the stripper poles, to be angry at how stupid he was to think that this was an _airplane enthusiast club._

And the worst part about this? The Landing Strip was probably the best place Nero could spend the night. The couches looked comfortable enough to sleep on, the building was warm and secure, and Nero couldn’t sense any demons nearby that would try to jump him.

Nero groaned, dragging his hand down his face. He never expected to spend _any_ of his time in a strip club, let alone sleep in one, but he didn’t have any alternatives, other than sucking up his pride and finding another phone booth to call Nico. It was definitely gross, but it was a step-up from half-destroyed hotel rooms where he slept with one eye open, praying that a rampant Qliphoth root or Empusa pack wouldn’t break through the flimsy door.

Yeah, he’d take a strip club any day over reliving _that._

After double checking that the building didn’t have any openings or destroyed walls that a demon could sneak through, Nero grabbed some spare furniture and barricaded the back exit. Granted, there wasn’t much he could do for a glass door, but he did his best. Hopefully, the sound of breaking glass would be enough to wake him.

Walking back to the main room, Nero yawned into his hand—

“Well this sure is a nice place you found.”

—And promptly choked on his own spit, reaching for Blue Rose only for his fingers to brush through thin air.

Dante chuckled, shaking his head. The LEDs shone blue and purple above him, the bright lights catching his hair and shadowing his expression. “Jumpy?”

“Fuck off, I didn’t know you were here.” Nero relaxed marginally, staring at Dante in confusion. “Actually, why _are_ you here?”

“Nico wanted me to try and find you, mostly to see if you found a good place to last the night, but also to make sure that holy water wasn’t killing you or something.” Dante shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looked around. “Oh, and Vergil wanted me to give you this.”

Dante tossed something from his pocket towards Nero, and he grabbed it out of mid-air. The familiar weight of Blue Rose in his hand eased some of the tension in his shoulders, and he quickly examined it. The metal was recently polished, the barrel appeared clean, and, after flicking open the chamber, he saw it was fully loaded.

“Gotta say, you found a pretty nice club. It’s nowhere near as good as Love Planet, but still, pretty decent for a place sitting in so much backwater it's clogging all the pipes.” Dante said as he vaulted the bar counter, the bottles clinking together merrily. “And there’s a bunch of good quality stuff on the shelves! You really found a little slice of heaven here.”

Nero frowned, gently placing Blue Rose in its holster. “When I called Nico earlier, she said that you were the one who brought Vergil to the van.”

“Huh?” Dante popped his head over the counter with several bottles of liquor in hand, and Nero was distinctly reminded of seeing a groundhog peeking its head out of its hole. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“How’d you find him?”

“I dunno, same way I found you, or any other big-shot demons in around. Sensing demons just comes naturally after a little while, especially when you’re, uh… _attuned_ to someone, so to speak.” Dante placed a few bottles of whiskey on the counter and vaulted back over, glancing at one of their labels. “Hey, how pissed do you think Lady would be if I tried to get drunk while we’re on a mission?”

“She’d shoot you with Kalina Ann if she found out.”

“Which she would.”

“Yup.”

Dante let out a drawn-out whine, then pulled the bottles to his chest before they disappeared with a flash of crackling, amber energy. “I’ll save them for the ‘job well done’ party later.”

“Alright, well, glad to see you got your shopping done.” Nero gestured at the front door. “The exit’s over there.”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m tired.” Dante pouted. “Can’t I crash here with you?”

Nero blinked, his nose scrunching up as he struggled to figure out what Dante’s angle was. “You’d leave Vergil alone with Nico?”

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.” With a deceptive level of ease, Dante’s childish pout shifted to be more serious. “He looked a lot better before I left, kid. He’s going to be okay.”

Nero huffed and looked away. “Is that why you’re here? You wanted to let me know Vergil’s making a speedy recovery?”

“Hey, it’s not like I can call you to let you know.” Dante shrugged. “You sounded bothered over the phone, figured you deserved an update.”

“Over the…?” Nero groaned and pinched his nose, remembering the clicking noise he’d heard before she explained what the new Devil Breaker did. “Nico put me on speaker, didn’t she.”

“Yeah, but… even if she didn’t, it wasn’t hard to hear you.” Dante tapped his ear. “Enhanced hearing is great for eavesdropping, even when you’d rather not listen in.”

Nero felt anger stirring in the corners of his mind, or maybe it was a headache. He couldn’t tell at this point. The day was long, stressful, and Nero just wanted to sleep the rest of the evening away and try to forget most of the day’s bullshit.

“Why are you really here, Dante?” Nero bulldozed on before Dante could answer. “And don’t spoon feed me bullshit, I got tired of _that_ back in June.”

Dante’s expression tightened. “I wanted to know if you were doing okay.”

“That’s it?”

“I also wanted to talk.” Dante hesitated. “But that can wait until morning, or just… later. If you really want me to leave, I will.”

“And you won’t bug me about it?”

“And I won’t bug you about it.”

Nero took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, then begrudgingly said. “You can take the couches closest to the bar.”

Dante let out a little ‘yes’ and pumped his fist, making his way over to his designated space and quickly throwing himself across the sofa, sighing as he sunk into the cushions slightly. “Damn, they _aren’t_ lumpy!”

“Guess that’s a good sign then.” Nero mumbled as he went to the other set of couches, a decently large stage separating him and Dante. The cushions, like Dante said, were comfortable enough for couch cushions. He cautiously took off his jacket and folded it up, placing it behind his head as a pillow before saying, in a slightly louder tone, “Just letting you know, I’m _exhausted,_ so don’t be pissed if I fall asleep mid-conversation.”

“Can’t blame you for that, walking _sucks.”_ Dante chuckled. “I don’t want to keep you up too long, so hopefully this’ll be quick.”

“Alright then, get it over with.” Nero sighed, allowing himself to relax slightly. “Shoot.”

Dante chuckled again, letting out another sigh. “So… did you like it when Vergil kissed ya?”

And there went any comfortable feelings of relaxation. “Of fucking course he’d tell you _that.”_

“Hey, it’s a fair question to ask!” Dante argued. “The last time he tried something, you went to another continent. This time, you gave him your gun and ran to find a phone to get Nico to you. I’d say that’s an improvement.”

“The last time, Vergil wasn’t _dying.”_ Nero crossed his arms over his stomach, looking at the back of the couch. “Look, he freaked me out—this whole thing _still_ freaks me out—but I don’t want either of you dead.”

“Did you know that your arm would do that?”

 _“Hell_ no, and if I did, I would’ve never used it.” Nero pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, when Nico said she made a Devil Breaker that could take Vergil out in one hit, I thought she made it so it would spring an unbreakable net, or there was some arcane shit behind it that would pin him in place. I didn’t think that she’d basically create a tear gas canister for demons.”

“Yeah, don’t want to know what that felt like.” Nero heard Dante shudder with disgust, then him rustling around. When he looked to his left, he could see the top of Dante’s shoulder over the stage. “So, what do you want to ask me?”

“Uh… what?”

“Well, I figured that since I got to ask two questions, you could ask me two in return. Seems fair.”

“Seems stupid to me.” It felt like some sleepover shit he’d seen in cartoons, or something the orphanage kids would do to torment a newcomer. “But fine, if it’ll make you feel better. Why didn’t you and Vergil want to come?”

“Well, Morrison made it sound real good. Pay was decent, it’d get us out of the shop, and we figured we could use it as a ‘hey, we’re back from Hell’ sort of gig. But then we learned that you were coming along, and well, we had to talk some stuff out.”

“I was the big ‘no’ factor, huh.” Nero couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice if he tried.

“No, that’s not it.” Dante explained. “Vergil wanted to confront you about leaving, and I didn’t. I don’t think he thought you would go all the way to Fortuna, or stay away as long as you did, and he was… not _upset,_ but definitely annoyed. He didn’t understand why you didn’t come back, but I did, and I didn’t want to push. Incest isn’t exactly something that’s widely accepted for humans.

“We couldn’t tell the ladies that, obviously, so we waited until they both left to make a deal. We’d both stay away from you and act like this was a normal job, no touching or kissing or making any moves—nothing.” Dante snorted. “Fat lot of good that did. He left all the demons guarding the hell gate to me and ran off, and he kept himself well hidden. By the time I found him again, you gave him a pretty good taste of his own medicine.”

“How kind of you two.” Nero rolled his eyes. “So, this whole stupid deal thing was to keep Vergil from jumping me?”

“Yes, and no. I mean, yeah, it was to try and keep Vergil in line, but I should’ve known he wouldn’t have kept his word. But it was for me, too.”

“You?”

“You think Vergil’s the only one that’s attracted to ya?” Dante picked his head up until he was looking at Nero over the stage, a crooked smile on his face.

Nero swallowed, not missing how Dante’s eyes flicked down to watch throat bob. “So, you’re going to follow Vergil’s lead.”

“Nah, I’m not too big on stabbing people I care about. Too many bad memories.” Something dark flicked across his eyes, but it disappeared before Nero could identify it. “But yeah. You’re attractive, spunky, and I care about you.”

“…How long?”

“Since the Savior, probably. Maybe a bit before. Gotta admit, having someone straddle you mid-air then beat the shit out of you is pretty attractive.” Dante’s eyes glowed bright red for a few seconds before he turned back on his back, a puff of air coming from the cushions. “But I figured telling you that would be a bad move. Fortuna doesn’t come off as the type of place that’d accept an almost-forty-year-old guy hitting on a teenager.”

“Yeah, definitely not.” Nero let out a nervous laugh, his stomach fluttering with nerves. “You never told me any of this before.”

“Nah, it wasn’t right. A lot of people that get close to me…” Dante paused, his voice sounding strained. “They don’t tend to have happy lives. Lady and Trish, they’re already neck deep and can handle their own, but you were _young._ You had a lot ahead of you and I figured if I left you and your family alone, maybe you wouldn’t get involved in all my bullshit. Maybe you’d get that happy life that never really happens.”

“And then Vergil happened.”

“And then Vergil happened, yeah.” Dante sighed. “Can’t say I’m not happy to have my brother back, but I still wanted you to have a normal life, as human as you could get. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid to think that, but… hey, I’m not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.”

Nero bit his lip, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Honestly? If you’d told me this years ago, or even just asked, I… don’t think I’d turn you down?”

“That sounded more like a question than a statement, kid.” Dante chuckled, though there was a strained note behind it.

“I…” Nero copied his uncle’s example and focused on the ceiling, refusing to look at Dante. “Back when everything went down, I had a crush on you. I thought it was some stupid hero crush that would go away in a week, but it never did. And then Red Grave happened, and V, and Vergil, and then everything after that, and I realized that I never really changed, even after all this time. 

“When Vergil stabbed me, it made me realize that I didn’t feel that way just towards you, that I was also messed up about him, and I freaked out, because a few months on the mainland doesn’t change two decades worth of being told ‘if you’re different, you’re wrong.’”

A heavy silence followed his confession, and Nero shuffled awkwardly before he continued. “So… yeah. If I’d been eased into it, maybe I wouldn’t have run. Maybe this wouldn’t be nearly as complicated as it is now. And I’ve been thinking about all of this for a while now, and I think that maybe I’d be open to… trying things. Maybe.”

A few seconds passed before Nero heard a  _ ba-bump _ as Dante vaulted over the stage and landed on top of Nero. He somehow managed to redirect most of his weight to land on the couch, but it was still enough of a shock that Nero jerked up with a startled yelp, nearly headbutting him as he jerked. “What the hell, Dante?”

“So, if I were to ask nicely now, how open would you be to trying a lil…” Dante wiggled his eyebrows with a sultry smirk. “Something-something?”

Nero leveled the most unimpressed at Dante that he could manage. “What happened to your deal with Vergil?”

“Technically he broke it when he kissed you.” Dante waved his hand dismissively. “But we also agreed in the van that we’d drop the deal, considering how well that went. So, he knows, and he’s cool with it. I think.”

“You’ll just take the first opportunity you can get, huh.” Nero rolled his eyes, valiantly fighting a smirk as he laid back, fingers twitching against his stomach. “If I said yes, what would that…?”

Dante shrugged. “I’m not going to push your limits. Whatever you’re comfortable with, we’ll try, and whatever you’re  _ un _ comfortable with, we won’t. It’s a test; something to see if you’re interested.”

“And if I’m not, or I want to stop?”

“Then I won’t push that, either. If you don’t want this, and you’re sure you won’t, then we’ll back off and leave ya be.”

Nero didn’t miss how Dante said ‘we’ and, though he doubted he could ever keep Vergil away, or convince him to leave Nero alone, he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Still, he nodded, swallowing to try and stomp down his own nervousness. “Okay. I’ll… let you lead.”

In other words, he didn’t have a damn clue what he was doing, and he’d really rather not embarrass himself too badly. Dante smiled, not commenting on Nero’s sudden bashfulness, and moved up until he was hovering parallel above Nero. Nero tensed, expecting Dante to drop his full weight on him, only for Dante to lean down and press his lips to Nero’s forehead. He trailed chaste kisses down the bridge of his nose and over his cheekbones, each one helping Nero calm down, bit by bit, until he reached Nero’s lips.

Dante tilted his head to the side as he kissed Nero, and he flinched, his mind immediately going back to Vergil. Instad, Dante laid still, shifting his weight onto his legs to free his hands, cuping Nero’s head with one and gently brushing his thumb behind Nero’s ear. His tongue snuck out, licking across his lips, and Nero hesitantly opened his mouth, jaw twitching as he restrained himself from biting down.

It was… wet. And a lot warmer than he’d anticipated, but… good, all the same. He carefully explored Dante’s mouth, shivering each time their tongues brushed. He pulled away when his lungs began to burn and, as he tried to catch his breath, Dante ground his hips against Nero’s, a moan slipping from his lips at the sudden friction.

“So sensitive.” Dante whispered, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Shut the fuck up.” Nero retorted breathlessly, looking away. “Are you going to do anything besides kissing?”

Dante gasped. “You doubt my abilities?” He crawled down Nero’s chest, reaching his waist and undoing Nero’s belt, letting it drop to the floor. “I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Nero suddenly regretted acting more confident than he actually was.

Dante pulled down Nero’s pants and boxers, Nero’s dick twitching slightly as it was exposed to the cold air. Dante licked his lips, wrapping his hand around Nero and gently stroking it, brushing his thumb over the slit. Nero grunted, biting on the inside of his lip to keep from making any more noises, partly out of embarrassment but also not wanting to give Dante the satisfaction.

But it was almost impossible to keep quiet. It wasn’t like Dante wasn’t doing anything different than Nero had done to himself, but it was somehow… more. He felt like he had to make noise, to squirm, to let Dante know that he was doing well, and he was sure his face was glowing red from how hard he was blushing.

As Dante’s hand picked up speed, his free hand hooked under his shirt, pushing it up—

Flashes of the scars along his chest filled his head, and Nero’s hand snapped down, grabbing Dante’s wrist. Dante, to Nero’s relief, slowed to a stop, letting go of Nero’s dick to rub a calming circle against his hip with his thumb. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Nero swallowed, collecting himself. “I don’t want my shirt off.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dante looked at his shirts, tilting his head to the side. “Uh…”

“You said you wouldn’t push!”

“I’m not, but… I don’t think you want your clothes covered in cum.” 

Nero blushed and looked away, grabbing his shirt’s hem and pulling it down to nearly cover himself. “There’s a bathroom where I can clean up later, it’s not a problem.”

Dante hummed, then smirked, perking up. He leaned forward, kissing Nero on the lips before leaning close to his ear. “Do you trust me?”

“If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be doing this.” Nero said, and he gasped when Dante nipped his earlobe, a brief spike of heat shooting down to his stomach, before he scooted further back, his head hovering over Nero’s hips.

Dante went back to stroking. The sudden rush of panic had killed his arousal slightly, and he’d grown soft during their conversation, but Dante’s hand brought him back fairly quick.

Dante looked up at Nero. “You clean, kid?”

“Uh…” Nero struggled to think through the haze of arousal blanketing his thoughts. “I’m covered in demon guts, so… no?”

Dante huffed out a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” 

And then Dante licked Nero’s slit.

Nero gasped, his hands latching onto the couch and Dante’s hair to ground himself. Dante grunted, opening his mouth and taking the head of Nero’s cock between his lips, the wet warmth making Nero shiver and pant as he did his best to not thrust up and choke him.

Dante chuckled, sliding further down and wrapping his tongue around the shaft as he went. It was practically inhuman how long Dante’s tongue was, and how well it curled around him. 

Before he could wonder if it actually  _ was  _ inhuman, and Dante somehow had a demon tongue all this time and he never knew, Dante hollowed his cheeks and drew himself up until he was flicking at the slit again, then shoved his head all the way down to the base.

Nero practically screamed, his back arching hard enough for it to pop. He pulled at Dante’s hair, struggling to breathe, his mind hyper-focused on how tight Dante’s throat was, and how warm, and how he was so,  _ so _ close. Nero frantically choked out, “Dante—!”

Dante brushed a finger over Nero’s hole and swallowed, and Nero was gone. Stars exploded behind his eyes as he let out a long moan, writhing as he pulled at Dante’s hair, unsure if he was trying to get further down Dante’s throat or pull him away.

Dante managed to pull back, swallowing Nero’s release and prolonging his earth-shattering orgasm until he was batting weakly at Dante’s forehead. With deliberate slowness, Dante pulled away, giving the head of Nero’s rapidly softening dick a parting lick. Nero laid limp against the cushions, panting as his eyes fluttered, a deep rumble coming from his chest.

Dante sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling down at Nero. “So, did I blow your mind?”

Nero wisely chose to not acknowledge the joke, instead focusing on propping himself up on his elbows. He looked down at Dante’s crotch, seeing the large bulge in his pants and sitting up. “Let me…”

“You don’t have to—”

Nero surged forward, grabbing Dante’s shirt and pulling him down to kiss him. There was a bitter flavor on his tongue, and the realization that Nero was tasting his own release sent embers of arousal flaring in his stomach. When they broke, Dante’s eyes were dark with hunger, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. “I want to.” 

Dante’s eyes flared red before he closed them, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long, shuddering groan. With jerky movements, Dante hastily undid his fly, nearly ripping his pants open as he pulled his dick free.

Nero’s eyes widened, taking in Dante’s cock. It was much, much larger than his was, with a girth to match. It was a ruddy red, pre-come dripping down his shaft, and Nero was painfully aware that there was no way he could do half as good a job as Dante did.

But Dante didn’t seem to care about that, immediately wrapping his hand around himself and frantically stroking, his breathings becoming rougher as time went on. Dante reached up and grabbed Nero’s head, shoving him forward so that his face was just above his dick. “Close your eyes.”

Nero complied and, seconds later, Dante let out a deep groan, something warm splashing against his face and covering his eyes in small spurts. Nero opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, tasting something bitter landing in the center. It was dense, and distinctly salty, and he briefly thought about spitting it out before he gathered his courage and swallowed, shivering as he felt Dante’s cum slide down his throat.

There was nothing but heavy panting for a few minutes, then Dante carefully unclenched his hand, letting Nero go. There was a faint ache in his back, but he ignored it in favor of wiping his eyes clean. Opening them, Nero saw his fingers were smeared with Dante’s pearly white cum, and he did his best to ignore how the rest of his face was covered. 

“Damn.” Dante chuckled, out of breath. “I’d say that was pretty good, right?”

“Yeah.” Nero resisted the urge to flick his hands clean (or, worse, lick them clean, he’d embarrassed himself enough by desperately trying to taste that tiny amount earlier).

“Any complaints about my wonderful performance?”

“Well…”

Dante’s happy expression fell. “What?”

“Nothing bad! It’s just…” Nero trailed off, brushing his nose, only to grimace at the sticky residue that clung to his finger. “I wanted to… do the same thing. To you.” 

Dante let out a relieved sigh and patted his head with his clean hand. “You can do that next time.”

Both of them froze, the air suddenly tense. Dante pulled his hand away, as if he’d been burned, and chuckled to try and lighten the mood.

“I-If you want to do that again, obviously” Dante fumbled, leaning further back. He got up from the couch, his legs shaking slightly before he got his feet under him. “I’m… going back to my side of the couch. Are you—”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Nero pushed himself up and carefully brushed past Dante, rounding the stage to the dark hallway. “I’m not falling asleep with all of this on my face.”

“That’s fair. Uh… good night?”

“Yeah. Night.” Nero briskly walked down the hall, pushing his way into the men’s bathroom and turning on the sink, refusing to look at his reflection. He scrubbed his face clean with warm water and soap, then splashed cold water to help him calm down.

But he couldn’t help but glance up once he felt vaguely cleaner. He took in the lingering blush, the sweat that made his shirts cling to his chest, his blown pupils and tousled hair. He thought back on just how different it felt, and the bliss he felt at not caring—not being scared— and embracing his carnal desires fully.

And in that moment, Nero knew what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The FBI Agent Watching Over Me: what the fuck is this bitch googling—
> 
> For anyone curious, apparently ‘The Landing Strip’ is a real name for a real strip club. I wanted to make up my own, but I know absolutely jack shit about strip clubs and I wanted it to be a cooky name that would fit into the DMC world, so The Landing Strip was selected.
> 
> But yeah! For anyone wanting Vergil comeuppance, here it is! I’ve been promising it on twitter for months, and it’s FINALLY here. Don’t worry, Vergil and Nero will eventually make up. I just needed to make them hurt a tiny bit more before we could get to that point. 
> 
> I’m also terrified that I actually managed to spit this chapter out in two weeks. Like, wtf me, what crack did I snort to get me to write over 10k in two weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to edit this but my brain is Too Tired from quarantine energy giving me the speed to write this shit super quick, so y'all will get chapter 4 now instead of tomorrow.
> 
> Time for a loooot of relationship angst folks. The finale will be chapter 5 now, so this is a bit of a buffer before we get some juicy meat to bite into. No major trigger warnings here folks, unless breakups trigger some uncomfortable memories with you. 
> 
> Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself. Bad me! No spoilers!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the chapter guys!

When Nero woke, Dante was gone.

He wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected Dante to stay—not when Vergil was still recovering and, more urgently, had been left alone with Nico for the evening. Still, some possessive part of him burned with bitter disappointment, and he bit his cheek until he tasted blood to ground himself.

He didn’t have time for stupid emotions to make him do stupid things, he had a job to do.

Progress was slow, but steady. Nero continued working his way through the main town, sometimes diverting into neighborhoods to make sure that there wasn’t anything hiding around. The last thing he wanted was for a family to return home, only an Empusa to crawl out of their garage and rip their heads off.

As for everyone else, he could vaguely sense Trish—her energy bright but distant, like seeing a bolt of lightning strike across the sky—towards the more rural parts of town were, and Lady was likely with her. He could feel Dante and Vergil’s energy burning off in the opposite direction of Trish, and that was… arguably good. It meant they hadn’t left, even after yesterday’s events.

Nero did his best to not think about how it could be a bad thing they were still around.

After fighting through a few more hordes of demons, Nero decided that he wasn’t going to try and find somewhere like The Landing Strip again. With his luck, he’d find the only sex shop that was still in operation despite the evacuation order. Still, it felt odd calling Nico and telling her to come pick her up considering how their last phone call went, but he didn’t have a lot of options.

The first few minutes after entering were awkward—like, ‘Nero could easily choke on the tension’ level of awkward. Nico had, in the span of braking in front of Nero, had somehow moved back to her bench, her welding mask guarding her face as she worked on… something. Nero couldn’t tell what.

Nero stood there awkwardly, not sure if he should sit down, or even if he  _ could, _ before he decided that that was stupid and he should just fucking sit on the couch. Soon after he settled, the blowtorch clicked off, and Nico lifted her mask, shaking out her hair. There were slight bags under her eyes, and her lips were covered with little scabs from biting them. “So… are we cool, or are you gonna throw another fit over my tech nearly killing your daddy.”

_ “Please _ don’t call Vergil ‘daddy’ ever again.” Nero shuddered. “And no, I’m not going to ‘throw a fit.’ I was more mad that you gave me something that could’ve killed me.”

Nico snorted, probably because she could smell bullshit a mile away. “Didn’t hear ya complaining about that with Punchline. And hey, it would’ve killed all the other demons, too.”

“Glad to know you care about me.” Nero wisely chose to not comment on how he could  _ control _ Punchline—not a lot, but he could direct it and keep it from blowing up in his face. He didn’t come here to argue, he came to take a nap in relative safety and maybe take a shower, and picking at Nico’s works of art would definitely lead to them yelling.

“Called tough love, buttercup.” Nico, throughout the entire conversation, kept her tone as flat as she could make it. She bent down behind her workbench, and Nero heard glasses clinking together as she opened her minifridge, pulling out a beer for herself and tossing Nero a can of soda. He eyed her suspiciously, knowing that she often didn’t give things away out of the goodness of her soul. “So… Dante didn’t come back last night.”

“Uh… yeah. He was with me?” Nero examined the can to make sure she didn’t tamper with it before popping the lid and taking a few sips, shivering at the cold, sweet taste. “He told me you asked him to find me.”

“I did, but I expected him to come back.” Nico leaned back, crossing her arms. “He was gone a  _ real _ long time. So long I fell asleep. And when I woke up this morning, I heard him and Vergil talkin’ before they decided to go off..”

“Oh.” Nero didn’t quite know where this was going, but the look Nico was giving him was anything but nice. “Did you hear something that sounded worrying?”

“They weren’t quiet, but I didn’t hear nothin’ too bad. Vergil mentioned sticking around for a while longer, to help thin out the demons.” Oh. Nero hadn’t suspected that  _ Vergil _ would be the one to suggest that—Nero didn’t doubt that there was some level of underhanded reason he wanted to stay—but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The sooner the job got done, the better.

Nero raised his soda to his lips just as Nico started again. “I was just about to fall asleep when I heard Dante say, ‘I think Nero might be willing to hash out a better deal than what you offered him.’”

Nero felt his veins turn to ice, and he nearly choked on his mouthful of soda. Fuck, Dante and his big fat fucking mouth, Nero was going to punch the bastard when he saw him again. Son of a  _ bitch. _

“Man, have you ever heard the saying ‘silence speaks volumes?’ Didn’t think that was a real thing up until now.” Nico chugged her beer and crushed the empty can before throwing it off to the side. “You didn’t mention a deal when you called.”

“It… didn’t feel important, at the time.”

“Bullshit. You  _ sprinted _ to find a phone, and you sounded like you were on the brink of tears when I picked up.” Nico stood up straight. “And before Trish brought up that something had to have happened with you to make them so cagey, and Dante leaves for a night only to come back  _ happy _ when you should’ve been giving him shit—”

“I did! We talked, I told him how I felt. The whole thing ended well!” Nero defended himself.

“But what did you talk  _ about? _ It can’t have just been you two shooting the breeze about Vergil being a shitbag, that wouldn’t make Dante happy.”

“Nico, please, I wanted to stay the night here instead of looking for a hotel or something. I don’t want an argument—”

“This isn’t an argument!” Nico shouted. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I just… I’m concerned about you, alright? I made the Breaker with the Holy Water to protect you, and that fucked up, and now I’m hearing something about a deal and I’m freaking the hell out over here.”

“Why? We both know I can protect myself, I’m not being stupid.”

“Nero, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you don’t know jack shit about demons.” Nico shook her head and went over to a stack of papers—some old, some new, some had Agnus’ familiar, illegible chicken-scratch all over. “Deals with demons—because, let’s be honest here, Vergil is a lot more demon than human—aren’t pretty things. They’re for life, they’re usually brutal, and a lot of them are specifically made to fuck over the other party.”

“But—”

“But  _ nothin’. _ I can protect you by givin’ you weapons and breakers and maybe a lil’ bit of sense, but I can’t protect you from a dumbass deal you made to maybe get your family to quit stabbin’ you in the back. And, when I tried to do that, I made shit worse for everyone. So I am askin’—no, I am  _ begging  _ you, Nero.” Nico looked at him over his shoulder. “What the hell is going on with the three of you?”

He could lie. He could lie, right now, and tell her that everything’s fine, or that he didn’t know what Dante was talking about. He could do the dumb thing and leave and take his chances out in town, but that would only delay the inevitable. 

But Nico looked, frankly, like shit. And she was smart. If he put it off, she’d corner him once they got back to Fortuna. If he lied, she’d tell Kyrie about it, and they’d both corner him. No matter what he did to hide his problems, at this point, Nico would dig her heels and pry him open with a crowbar.

So he sighed, put his can down on the floor, and said, “You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

* * *

The next half hour was one of the worst periods of time in Nero’s life. Not  _ the  _ worst, but up there. More embarrassing than traumatizing or life-altering, but still, having to explain how Dante and Vergil were having sex and wanted him in on it—and that he was considering joining them after everything they’ve done—wasn’t his finest moment.

Nico had an expression between disgust and utter glee at seeing him blush and stammer out what happened the night he left Devil May Cry. Nero made her swear that she wouldn’t tell Kyrie about this before he told her, wanting to break it to her himself, which he didn’t doubt she’d uphold. It was a messy situation, and hearing it from his mouth might make her less… disgusted, so to speak.

God, he didn’t even want to  _ think _ about how Kyrie would react to this.

Nico leaned back from her perch atop her work bench and whistled. “Damn, that is… definitely something.”

“I know.”

“Like, it’s really something. Can’t ever look at the two of them the same again.”

“I  _ know.” _

“Hey, you said you walked in on ‘em, right? Which one of ‘em was on top?”

“Nico  _ what the fuck.” _

“What? I’m a curious lil thing, you gotta give me all the details!”

Nero groaned and covered his face with his hands, ignoring her hyena-like laughter. When she calmed down, Nero risked peeking out from behind his fingers. “You aren’t… disgusted?”

“I’ve looked at demon guts and sacs and all their other unmentionable bits and made them fine pieces of art. I’ve also seen plenty of scare tactics to get people to stop smoking. Not a lot in the world can disgust me at this point.” 

“But it’s… it’s  _ weird, _ right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely not normal, but comparatively?” Nico chuckled and leaned forward. “Is wanting any good ol’ love from your daddy any weirder than growing back an entire arm?”

“Ugh, ew, no, don’t  _ ever _ say it like that again.”

“C’mon, he just wants to bump ya in the cradle—”

“Nico.”

“Dance with you under the moonlight and show you his moon’s light.”

_ “Nico.” _

“Wed ya and—”

“If you finish that sentence, I will kick you out of your own van and lock all the doors.” Nico opened her mouth and Nero held up a finger. “I’m serious. No more euphemisms.”

Nico huffed and crossed her arms. “Fine, I’m done. But in all seriousness? Yeah, it’s weird, but it’s not anything as bad as I thought it would be.”

“What did you think it was gonna be?”

“I dunno! I figured since you nearly killed each other, there was some weird life debt thing and you had to run because Vergil was gonna make you his slave or something out of revenge. It’s not too big a step from ‘he raised a giant demon tree to feast on human blood to become a demon king, all to kill his brother because of a life-long feud.’”

“That’s…” Nero sighed and lowered his finger. “Fair. That’s fair.”

“So…” Nico got off her workbench and made her way to the front of the van, grabbing a blanket along the way. “Now that all the serious stuff is out of the way, what’re you gonna do?”

“What, right now?”

“No, I mean about your whole demon threeway thingy. You said you wanted in, right?”

“I… yeah.” Nero leaned back against the couch. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while and… yeah. I want to try, at least.”

“So what’re you gonna do after the job, propose to them? Write out a contract for them to sign so they don’t fuck up?”

“I don’t know the first thing about writing contracts for  _ anything, _ let alone intercourse.”

Nico snorted. “‘Intercourse.’”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“Uh, sex? Like everyone else?”

“Fuckin’— _ fine _ a contract for  _ sex. _ Happy?”

“Immensely.”

Nero rolled his eyes.  _ “Anyways, _ I thought once the mission’s done we’d head back to Fortuna and I’d tell Kyrie about it, and then go to Capulet to talk it out with both of them more.”

“So, basically, you’re gonna move out of Fortuna.”

“Sort of…?” Nero shrugged. “I’d come and visit, obviously. I’d call, too. Let you know how I’m doing. Maybe I’d go back and forth, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t exactly go ‘back and forth’ when you were playin’ maid, but sure.” Nico chuckled, waving her hand at Nero when he shot her glare. “I’m kidding, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Thank you for your undying support.”

“Hey, tough love, remember?” Nico settled into her spot and pulled her blanket up to her neck. “But seriously, good luck. I hope that it all goes well for ya.”

“What happened to tough love?”

“Hey, shut up, I wish ya good luck if I want. You’ll definitely need it when you tell Kyrie your plan.”

Nero winced, and wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

Three days of walking and grueling work later, and the town was demon free.

Well, probably. They couldn’t sense anymore demons, there weren’t any big, tough guys wandering around searching for humans to munch on, and the gate was as closed as they could get it. There wasn’t much more they could do at this point, and they told the mayor to be careful for the next few months and to call them if anything came up.

If the mayor was worried about a hacknee job, he didn’t show it over the phone. He thanked them profusely, told them money had been wired to their agent, then hung up to make an announcement to come back. Nero doubted most would, given how terrifying the entire situation had been and most people would rather take their chances with real estate than deal with demons.

Nero sympathized with them. He’d have left Fortuna following Sanctus’ fuckery if he didn’t have so many things tying him back. He had people to help, a city to rebuild, and his last living family grieving over countless deaths.

He chuckled to himself as they drove back to Capulet—two short, since Vergil had opened a portal for him and Dante to leave through. He supposed he was leaving, just five years later, his ties having weakened over the years. Fortuna, while not thriving, was stable. People needed his help less, and the city was slowly rebuilding. Kyrie had a stable life and, if Nico wanted to, she could easily expand her market to the rest of Fortuna.

And as for family? Well, he was just going from one family to another, really. He just hoped that Kyrie wouldn’t cut ties with him after learning the real reason why.

He and Nico dropped Lady and Trish off at their apartment, their goodbyes said on pleasant terms, with Trish giving Nero a knowing look before heading inside the building. He didn’t know how much Trish really knew, but he could certainly tell that she knew  _ something _ was up. Nero wouldn’t be surprised if she figured out what was going on already and was silently judging them.

The ferry ride was uneventful, aside from some choppy waters from an oncoming storm making the experience more harrowing than boring. They arrived on Fortuna nauseous, exhausted, but in one piece, with heavy sheets of rain falling on the windshield to greet them.

Driving slowly for once, Nero and Nico both let out a sigh when they finally pulled into their garage, both of them stumbling out of the van and into the main house. The kids immediately swarmed them, hugging their legs as they called for Kyrie.

Kyrie appeared at the top of the stairs a few seconds later, dressed in her pajamas, hair tied back in a messy bun. Her eyes flicked between the two of them before sighing, giving a relieved smile. “You didn’t call ahead.”

“Sorry, the signal was shit.” Nero gently pinched her arm when she sweared, but she batted his hand away. “We tried before we boarded the ferry, but couldn’t get through.”

“I may have been on the phone with some of the Order soldiers. They wanted to let me know about an upcoming meeting.” Kyrie went down the stairs and hugged Nico, then kissed Nero on the cheek, giggling as he blushed.

Greetings over, Kyrie put her hands on her hips and looked down at the kids. “Alright, time for bed you three.”

Julio, Kyle and Carlo let out three synchronized, disappointed noises. “You said we could stay up!”

“Until I was ready for bed, and then I’d tuck you all in.” Kyrie smiled. “Plus, Nero and Nico are exhausted, and they have nice, freshly-made beds to get a full night of sleep.”

“Actually—” Nero started before Nico’s pointy elbow jammed into his side.

“That’s right! Exhausted!” Nico let out an exaggerated yawn. “How about I make sure you three brush your teeth while Kyrie and Nero get your PJs ready?”

“We can do it ourselves!” Carlo said, lisping slightly as his tongue stuck out between a missing tooth.

“Yeah, but I don’t want any little liars under my roof.” Nico crouched down to their height. “You three know what happens when you don’t brush your teeth?”

“No?”

“Well, they all. Fall.” Nico jerked forward and grabbed Kyle’s cheeks, pinching them and pulling them away from his face. “Out!”

The boys let out little yells and giggles, Kyle jerking free of Nico’s lax grip. “That’s right lil fellas! You’ll have nothing but pretty pink gums, and you won’t be able to eat your favorite snacks!”

“No!”

“I wanna eat!”

“What about my ice cream? Can I eat that?”

“Not without teeth you won’t! Now get along to the bathroom, I want to see those teeth shining brighter than the sun!”

The three ran up the stairs giggling, racing each other to the bathroom, Nico following behind. She glanced at Nero, and he nodded his thanks before he looked at Kyrie. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” She smiled, but it quickly fell when he didn’t smile back. “Is something wrong?”

“Not… exactly.” Nero shuffled his feet and glanced upstairs. “Can we talk? After the kids are tucked in, obviously. Sounds like they’ve been waiting a while.”

“Yeah, they have. And, of course we can talk.” Kyrie took his hand and gently ran her thumb across his callouses. “Before we do, you’re okay?”

“For now.” He chuckled and, throwing caution to the wind, he pulled her into a hug, taking a deep breath. He let himself be selfish, if only for a few seconds. He wanted to hold onto this moment where they were all okay, and nothing had been broken or talked about yet, just in case he never got this again.

When he pulled away, Kyrie looked even more alarmed than before. “Are you sure—?”

“I’m okay. Really.” Nero patted her shoulder. “I’ll wait in your room, okay?”

“…Okay.” Kyrie’s voice was tiny as she turned and went upstairs, heading towards the kids’ room, and Nero watched her, holding onto this final image before he fucked everything up.

* * *

Before the Savior’s rampage, Kyrie and Credo shared the master bedroom. She took one side, he took the other, and Nero took the guest bedroom. While they’d moved most of Credo’s belongings into boxes and placed them in the attic, Kyrie refused to touch the other side of the bedroom, saying that she wanted it to stay the same for as long as she could. 

To her credit, she kept it pretty much the same as the day where everything went wrong. There was a desk with a sash draped over its chair, old papers with Credo’s handwriting strewn about. There was a small cactus—a gag gift from Nero for his twenty-first birthday—that had grown at least an inch over the past year, as Kyrie had continued to care for it. The room was, essentially, a well-maintained time capsule.

While it probably wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, it never failed to evoke the sense that Credo was there. Silent and invisible, but there, watching over them. Any other day, it would feel comforting.

Right now, however, this was possibly the worst place he could’ve picked to talk about things. Kyrie sat at the head of her bed, Nero was sitting on the far corner, and he’d have to explain that he wanted to fuck his uncle and father with Credo watching over him, judging his fucked up decisions from the afterlife.

He’d thought about what he was going to say and how ever since he talked to Nico. Gaps between demon fights were filled with him going over his opening statements, and how to best address her questions, and then he realized he was starting to feel like he had to justify one of his mistakes to his acting general when he was in The Order, and he quickly did everything to distract himself from thinking about how he was going to tell Kyrie.

In the end, he blurted out what had really happened, and then what he wanted to do, carefully avoiding eye contact and focusing on finishing his thoughts. When he was done, the silence stretched on for ages, Nero bouncing his leg to do anything to distract from the oppressive silence hanging over them. 

A good minute after he was done and couldn’t add anything more, Kyrie let out a tiny, “Oh.” 

Nero felt his heart break.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out.

“Why are you sorry?”

“For—for  _ everything! _ For lying when I came back, for feeling the way I do, for… for leading you on and making you think—”

“Nero,  _ Nero.” _ Kyrie leaned forward and placed her hand on his shoulder, and he flinched. Kyrie jerked back like she’d been burned, and the broken pieces of Nero’s heart shattered further. “Nero, it’s okay.”

“No it’s  _ not. _ You can’t just say that it’s not, Kyrie.”

“But it is. I knew something was happening for a while. You’ve been different ever since you came back, I just didn’t know how to approach you about it.” Kyrie placed her hands in her lap. “I thought that, if I did, you’d push everyone away. I know now that I should’ve tried to reach out before you left.”

“I didn’t even know I wanted  _ this  _ before I left.” Nero chuckled sadly. “I thought ignoring it would make it go away, but nothing I did worked. I just… kept thinking about it, and it got worse and worse, and I felt like shit because I hadn’t told you, and we were together—”

“Not any more together than the children’s teacher would believe.” Kyrie shook her head with a fond smile. “We were never a couple. We were close, and we cared for each other, but I never thought we were romantically involved. I’m sorry that I made you feel that we were.”

“It wasn’t you, I…” Nero sighed. “When I was younger, I wanted to be normal. I dreamt of being a normal kid, with normal hair, and normal parents. But I didn’t have any of that, and I couldn’t get any of that, so I tried to be normal in all the other ways. Everyone told us that we were close, so I clung onto that and thought that meant that we were a couple.”

“But we weren’t, and neither of us felt that way.”

“I know, but… it was one of the few things people could tolerate about me. I wasn’t a tool to be used for the Order, and I wasn’t some whore’s son. I had you and everyone thought that being around you would make me better.”

“And somewhere along the way, you thought that made us… a couple.”

“Maybe. I just… I’m not normal, Kyrie. I’ve never been normal, and I feel like I’ve been lying to you for years about who I am.”

“Nero.” Kyrie cupped his face and pulled his head up to look him in the eye. “I’ve known you aren’t ‘normal’ since you destroyed a giant demon statue with one, scaly hand.”

“But this is—”

“Different?” Kyrie let her hands drop. “You say that I don’t know who you are, but the Nero I know is a kindhearted boy who cares for everyone he meets. The Nero I know would jump in front of a bullet, or run into a burning house, to save someone. It doesn’t matter if they’ve never met, or if the person hates him, because it’s the right thing to do. So what if he isn’t normal? He’s still a good, kind man who cares. That will never change.”

“But…”

“Ah ah ah!” Kyrie placed her finger on Nero’s lips, and he obediently shut them. “No buts! I don’t want to hear you talk bad about yourself again mister.”

Nero chuckled. “Yes ma’am.”

Kyrie smiled back for a brief second before continuing. “I just want to know, will doing this make you happy?”

“I…” Nero took a deep breath. “Yeah, I think it will. And if it doesn’t, I’ll punch them both and come back, I promise.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear.”

“…Really?”

“I want you to be happy, Nero. I’m happy here with the kids and Nico. If you’ll be happier on the mainland with Dante and Vergil, and they can give you something I can’t, then I’ll support you.” Kyrie pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Nero closed his eyes, focused on breathing. He didn’t speak for a few minutes, knowing that, if he did, his voice would tremble, and he didn’t want Kyrie to think he was sad.

When he felt confident that his voice would be level, he said, “I… don’t know when I’ll leave. Soon, maybe. A few days at the least.”

“Good. I can make you plenty of leftovers to bring with you. From what you told me about how the kitchen looked when you got there, I doubt either of them know how to cook.”

Nero snorted, “I think I’ll miss your cooking the most.”

_ “Only _ my cooking?” When Nero’s face dropped, Kyrie broke out into giggles. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Get some rest, you deserve it.”

“Yeah, I will.” Nero rose from the bed, hesitating in front of the door. “Thank you, Kyrie.”

“Always. I’ll support whatever makes you happy, Nero. Don’t ever forget that.”

Nero smiled as he left, sighing and nearly collapsing to the ground as all the tension drained from his body. Prepared for disgust and rejection, receiving something close to approval was such a weight off his mind, especially after spending several days panicking over how she would react.

Kyrie was truly an angel, and he’d never find anyone as patient and understanding as her. From making his favorite dishes after a job, to the fresh sheets on his bed that he eagerly climbed into to relax after the arduous trip home, she truly cared about him, and he really would miss her.

Especially when—not if,  _ when— _ Dante’s bullshit pushed him a bit  _ too _ far, and he’d have to genuinely contemplate if killing him would be a national service.

…He should probably hold onto the silence of their house while he still could.

* * *

Nero gave himself a week of downtime before he’d leave Fortuna. Most of his time was spent informing the Order that he’d be leaving soon and making sure that Kyrie and Nico had enough money before then. 

The rest of his vacation, if he could call it that, was spent playing with the kids and helping Kyrie around the house. Nico had holded herself away in the van, staying in there for the entire week before bursting out of the van just after Nero had hugged the kids goodbye. In her hands was a gift wrapped box, a little longer than his forearm and about twice as wide.

When he went to open it, Nico tsked and covered his hand. “Wait until ya get to the shop.”

“This isn’t another bomb, is it?”

“Nah, it’s a gift. Cross my heart and all that jazz. It’s just that…” Nico glanced down at the kids. “I don’t think it’s all that appropriate in front of the youngins.”

“Somehow you just made this sound even  _ more _ deadly.”

“Shut up.” Nico punched his shoulder with a teasing grin.

“You’ll call when you get there?” Kyrie asked.

“Yeah, and I’ll try to call every week.”

“And if they’re bein’ jerkish, make sure to tell me.” Nico crossed her arms and tilted her head back. “I’ll make ‘em wish they never crawled outta the Underworld.”

“I mean, okay, but I kind of  _ want  _ them to be here.”

Kyrie placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll try to keep her in check.”

“We’ll miss you!” Carlo said.

“Bring back something cool!” Kyle chimed in.

“Beat some demon ass!” Julio pumped his fist.

“Julio!” Kyrie yelled and, when Nero started laughing, she turned to glare at him. “He learned that from you!”

“Hey, don’t throw me under the bus! What about Nico, she swears like a sailor!”

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

Nero nearly missed the ferry from them arguing back and forth, but it was well worth the last bit of friendly banter he’d have with her for a while.

* * *

Nero expected a lot of things, returning to the mainland. He expected it to be just as bitterly cold as Fortuna was this time of year. He expected that the shop would be torn to shreds from Dante and Vergil’s arguing-turned-deadly-sword-fight-ing. He expected Dante to grin and wave from his desk while Vergil would turn up his nose and glare.

He did not count on the main office not only being empty, but somehow covered in a mess that was just as, if not  _ worse _ than when Nero first arrived, all those months back. Pizza boxes were now accompanied with additional take out cartons. The paper scraps scattered about were accompanied by books—some with torn pages, some discarded, most covered in foreign characters that, when looked at, made Nero’s skin crawl. There were deep gouges in the wall and floor, sword strikes that had missed.

…Or maybe they didn’t, judging by how some had dark brown, almost black stains surrounding them. 

Standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open, Nero could at least think that he was right on the first point. The mainland was cold as shit, the streets covered in snow that was hardened with a layer of ice on the top that glinted in the evening lights of the open stores. The poor weather explained some wet footprints staining some of the papers, at the very least.

Nero felt a flash of irritation before he let out a resigned sigh, clapping his hands together in front of his face and closing his eyes. It was late, the ferry ride was long, and Nero had anticipated… well, not this, obviously. He thought he was in for a long discussion with Dante and Vergil about why he was here and what they were going to do, so this had certainly thrown a wrench into his plans.

Taking another deep breath, this time through his nose, Nero leaned a bit more into his demonic senses. The twins’ scents weren’t too old, but they hadn’t been here for probably a while, maybe an hour or two. Opening his eyes and walking over to the desk, Nero glanced over the miscellaneous papers, but trying to decipher Dante’s chicken scratch was like trying to translate an entire book written in a dead language.

_ Did _ Dante write his notes in a dead language, just keep anyone from spying? Nero didn’t exactly doubt it, seeing that it was a smart move, but… well, it was Dante. He doubted that he would be willing to put that much effort into… well, anything, really. 

Regardless, Nero couldn’t find any hint as to where they might’ve gone and he had no clue when they would be back. With a grumble, Nero placed Red Queen and Nico’s gift on one of the cleaner cushions of the couch, cracked his knuckles, and began working on the worst of the mess.

There wasn’t a chance in Hell Nero was going to deep-clean the office. Not only was he too exhausted for that right now, there was no way Nero could fix the slash marks without additional materials. He’d focus on what was manageable, starting with throwing out the various cardboard pizza boxes and take out cartons, then stacking the books and miscellaneous papers strewn around. 

As for organizing them, he’d let the twins do that when (not if,  _ when) _ they came back. He couldn’t read most of what he picked up—the notes not covered in Dante’s shit handwriting had similar symbols to the ones in the books, and they were only slightly less creepy—he simply gathered what was nearby, stacked them in a pile, and left them on a nearby surface. The books that were open were carefully bookmarked with a nearby pen or pencil, and the damaged ones were left as they were.

By the end of it, the office was marginally cleaner. Nero could (and  _ would) _ only do so much, and, well, even he had limits. Maybe tomorrow, if he wasn’t kicked out or killed, he would do more.

Nero yawned, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was creeping closer to midnight now and there still wasn’t any sign of them. Reaching out with his senses, Nero couldn’t feel their energy, but considering Vergil could open a portal and go wherever his heart desired, that wasn’t surprising.

“If they went down to Hell again without telling anyone, I swear I’ll kill them.” Nero muttered, going over to the couch. The cushions were just as springy and uncomfortable as before, and Nero didn’t welcome the feeling of metal poking him in the ass, but he didn’t dare go upstairs. Partly because, well, his last memories upstairs weren’t exactly  _ pleasant _ to say the least.

But also, if this was the state of the office, Nero dreaded to see what the bathroom had turned into. God, if the toilet looked anything like it did when he first showed up, Nero would strangle Dante the second he came back. He could probably sue the bastard over emotional damages, at the very least.

Nero glanced at the box Nico had given him. He felt like the damn thing was taunting him the entire ferry ride, goading him into opening it, only barely held off by Nico’s somewhat ominous warning.

Well… he was on the mainland now, all by himself. Opening it wouldn’t hurt, right?

The wrapping was easy enough to undo without making too big of a mess. Nico had obviously just slapped it on, likely working to the last minute before handing it off. It wasn’t her usual style—she loved showing off her new work with all the deadly pizazz hidden behind a slightly innocent exterior—so it put Nero a little on edge.

Lifting up the lid of the box, Nero half expected whatever it was to jump out at him and, he didn’t know, rip his face off. Of course, that didn’t happen, but he was still shocked by what was inside.

It was a new Breaker. A black interior with a white chassis with gold highlights, with a large knob on the back of the hand. Nero picked it up and turned it over, holding it away from his face as the hand slid out slightly, the wrist apparently attached to the arm by… a pump? What?

The hand itself was… soft. The white materials surrounding the fingers and palm were soft, but firm, almost rubbery. Attaching it briefly, Nero tested out its mobility, surprised that the fingers were incredibly dexterous, but the wrist was completely stationary. If he wanted to turn his hand, he’d have to move his entire arm.

Shifting his legs made something slide around in the box, and he looked down to see a note at the bottom. Unfolding it, Nero huffed as he saw Nico’s bold, quick handwriting.

_ Nero, _

_ Hope this arm more than makes up for my blunder before. I’d recommend not using this bad boy in public, else you’ll get a lot of weird looks. Her name’s “Sweet Surrender,” and you’ll soon figure out why! ;) _

_ Enjoy the mainland, and make sure to drive them boys crazy for me, will ya? _

— _ Nico  _

‘Don’t use in public?’ Where else was he supposed to use it? More importantly, what did it do?

“Y’know what?” Nero detached Sweet Surrender from his arm and placed it back in the box, cushioning it with the bunched-up wrapping paper, then slid the box under the couch for good measure. “Don’t wanna know.” Last thing he wanted to test was how explosive this thing was while he was indoors, regardless of what Nico’s note told him.

Another glance at the clock. Five past midnight.

Nero let out a dramatic groan and flopped against the couch, the cushions barely budging as he nearly cracked his head on the window behind him. With a bit of grumbling, he laid down on the couch, pulling Blue Rose from its holster and keeping it in his left hand, just in case.

The twins likely wouldn’t be back until morning and, with no way to reach them, Nero just had to hope that they wouldn’t immediately toss his ass out on the curb when they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve fallen so deep into Animal Crossing it’s not even funny—
> 
> Anyways, a lot of talking happened here! I did my best to not make it too repetetive, but also to get everyone important to Nero introduced to Le Incest and give generally in-character responses. Nico’s was rather easy (esp. after reading Before the Nightmare) while Kyrie’s was… definitely harder. 
> 
> But I did my best! I’ll admit I dislike Kyrie in canon, but I do understand that she and Nero have been through a lot and deserve some closure (especially in a fic like this). Kyrie comes off to me as the type of person that wants someone to be happy rather than being stuck in a miserable situation. I feel like her desire for Nero to be happy would overrule her potential disgust, especially given how much Nero was tearing himself up over it. Plus, I feel like Fortuna would be the type of place to go “boy and girl are friends, which automatically means they’re dating, which Nero would buy into.” 
> 
> In other worlds, in the wonderful world of Functionally Dysfunctional, they’ll still be friends and kind-of siblings, but they definitely don’t feel a romantic pull here.
> 
> And yes, Nico’s wonderful apology gift… Since you can’t get Sweet Surrender through natural progression in DMC5 (since it’s a DLC only Breaker) I figured it would be fun for Nico to give it to him as a “sorry I nearly killed your dad” gift. Unfortunately it won’t be used in the next chapter, but I’m sure the boys will have some fun with it in the future ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, after getting smacked across the face by Animal Crossing: I’m good! We’re good! I’m fine—!  
> Me, two seconds later, getting gut-punched by FF7R: lEsS fInE eVeRyOnE… LeSs FiNe...
> 
> But, despite flower crossbreeding and endless side-quests as I FINALLY experience FF7, I got this chapter written! It’s the grande finale, the coup de grace, the seven million other words/phrases that mean “big final event,” etc. etc.
> 
> All jokes aside, I would like to thank everyone that’s read this fic, this series, or just checked in briefly to see what was in store. Seeing so many people enjoy this story and all my crazy ideas is so amazing to me. I never expected any of my stuff to receive as much attention as it did, but every time I’m so surprised by how much people enjoy this. Seriously, seeing so many people freak out when I posted the first chapter for this fic was genuinely amazing to see for me, and I adore and appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you so, so much for making me feel welcome in this fandom, and I can’t wait to see you all in the next one :)

Nero opened his eyes, grumbling as a ray of sun hit him right in the face, and he hastily shut them again. He was pleasantly warm, and he pulled his blanket a bit higher, hiding from the sun as he nuzzled into his pillow, trying to ignore the world and cling to sleep just a little bit longer.

Then his brain kicked in and reminded him that, last time it checked, it was the middle of the night, he was on a couch, and he _definitely_ didn’t have a blanket. 

Nero’s eyes flew open and he hastily sat up, Blue Rose still in hand. It was mid-morning, maybe edging closer to early afternoon, based on the light slanting through the windows. He heard a car pass by the shop, the city having woken up long before Nero did. There were some clinks from the kitchen’s direction, the low hum of the microwave accompanying them.

And draped over Nero’s previously curled-up form was a familiar, dark jacket with tattered tailcoats.

Nero didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or mortified, probably both. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he clearly did. And he’d conked out so hard that he didn’t wake up when Dante or Vergil returned, or when Vergil had, a-fucking-parently, given him his _coat_ to use as a blanket.

Maybe it wasn’t his coat? That sounded stupid as shit, but maybe it was just a spare, or a blanket that looked really, _really_ similar to Vergil’s coat, because there’s no way Vergil would _actually_ give him his coat, right?

Nero lifted it close to his face, sniffing the fabric. There was a heavy musk seeped into it—a sharp tang of ozone with something heavier beneath it—and Nero pressed his face into it, trying to identify all the myriad of smells layered over one another. He shifted slightly, something warm curling in his stomach and slowly travelling down to—

Nope, nope, definitely his coat, fucking _shit._ Nero pulled it away from his face and threw it towards one end of the couch while he curled into a ball at the opposite corner. He glared at the coat as he took a deep breath, trying to clear his senses.

Footsteps, too loud to be anything _but_ deliberate, came from the kitchen, and Nero forced his attention away from the offending piece of fabric to see Vergil enter the main room. He was, of course, lacking his coat, deigning to only wear his vest and his ridiculous pants and boots, Yamato not at his side, for once. In his hands was a coffee mug, filled with an aromatic tea that he idly sipped, glancing at Nero out of the corner of his eye. “Good morning.”

“Uh… yeah. Morning.” Nero said, gripping Blue Rose a bit tighter. Even with Yamato not visible (because there wasn’t a _chance_ Vergil didn’t have the sword on him, it just wasn’t at hand, same as most of Dante’s swords) Vergil was still a force to be reckoned with. He took comfort in having her weight in hand.

“We weren’t anticipating you.” Vergil stated.

“Well I didn’t call ahead, so, not your fault.”

Vergil hummed and took another sip. Nero struggled not to fidget, or grab for Red Queen. Making an obvious show of going for his weapon would likely be a _bad_ decision, and he didn’t want a repeat of the last night he was here. “Where’s Dante?”

“Still asleep. The fool won’t be up for another…” Vergil looked to the clock. “Hour, at least. He refuses to wake before the hour is two digits long.”

“Yeah, Nico’s like that too.” She always fell asleep and woke up late, missing breakfast more than a few times.

Another bout of awkward silence passed between them, and Nero eventually gave into his urge to fidget, threading his fingers through the tattered bottom of his shirt and pulling the hole wider.

“I suspect you have something you want to talk to us about.” Vergil began.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to repeat myself so…” Nero shrugged. “Guess we gotta wait a while.”

“Or not.” Vergil grunted and made his way to the stairs. Nero couldn’t help the involuntary flinch when he moved, but Vergil didn’t bother looking at him, instead calmly going to the second floor as he drank from his mug. He disappeared down the hallway, Nero heard a door creak open.

There was some muffled conversation, too low and far away for Nero to make out the words, but he could hear Dante’s voice. It was quiet for all of two seconds before there was a loud bellow and a heavy thump, making Nero jump.

Vergil reappeared quickly, hastily descending the staircase as Dante shouted. “God _dammit!_ Vergil, you piece of—”

“Come down in five minutes, unless you want a repeat performance.” Vergil called over his shoulder. He turned abruptly back to the kitchen, the sink ran for a few seconds, then Vergil returned, mug no longer in hand.

Nero put the pieces together. “Did you just pour your tea on him?”

“He’s fine, despite his incensed shouting.” Vergil rolled his eyes. “He’s been damaged by far worse than a bit of hot tea spilled on his face—”

“You poured _steaming tea_ on his _face?”_

“In my opinion, it’s an improvement. He’ll certainly smell better.” Vergil, to Nero’s complete surprise, smirked, childish mirth dancing in his eyes.

Nero’s eyes narrowed. “Since when could you tell jokes?”

Vergil’s smirk fell into its usual, stoic mask as he leaned against the desk, but there was something else. His eyes looked old, haunted, and he crossed his arms as he stared blankly at the doors, something dark flashing across his eyes.

Nero leaned closer, wanting to figure out what was happening, but he was distracted by a series of loud thumps from upstairs. Heavy, agitated steps announcing Dante’s arrival as he glared over the banister.

He didn’t have a shirt on, because of course he didn’t. And, because Nero was the degenerate piece of filth he was, he couldn’t help but eye up Dante’s chest like it was an all-you-could-eat buffet.

In Nero’s defense, it was a _very_ nice chest. Pronounced abs and pecs, skin shining with sweat in the morning light that reached the second floor, proudly displaying years of hard earned strength and experience. What drew Nero’s eye, however, was a long scar running parallel to his sternum that was pale, with soft edges that blended smoothly to his healed skin. There were smaller nicks and puncture marks littering his torso, all of them varying in age, and all of them more attractive than the gnarled mess that was his own body.

“Oh.” Dante’s expression softened as he waved, showing off a prominent vein traveling from his wrist to the middle of his forearm. “Hey Nero.”

Nero, realizing he’d been sitting there silently for the past five seconds, belatedly waved back. As Dante made his way downstairs, Nero forced himself to uncurl, placing his feet on the ground and cautiously holstering Blue Rose. He kept his hand on the handle, but he did his best to appear somewhat confident, and not likely he had every butterfly on earth going crazy in his stomach.

“You know, if you told me Nero was here, I would’ve gotten up _just fine_ on my own.”

Vergil took a deep breath, the haunted look in his eyes fading as he turned to address Dante. “Now, we both know that’s a lie.” 

“Still didn’t have to burn me, jackass. This face makes a lot of money.”

“And yet, we live in squalor.”

“We don’t ‘live in squalor,’ it’s just a little dirty. Nothing too bad.”

“Hate to say it, but I agree with Vergil. This place is fucking disgusting.” Nero butted in, glaring at Dante.

Vergil sighed in relief. “Thank you, Ne—”

“Oh, just because I’m agreeing with you doesn’t mean that you’re any better.” Vergil’s shoulders rose as Nero gestured at the piles of paper and half-repaired/damaged books he’d cleaned the night before. “I shouldn’t have to pick up after two full grown men like a fucking maid. You both have working arms and legs, use them.”

Dante laughed uneasily, shoving his hands in his pockets as he strutted over to his desk, flopping into his chair and throwing up his legs. “So… what’s the reason for the surprise visit?”

Nero rolled his eyes, sorely tempted to continue giving the twins shit for letting Devil May Cry become a pig sty, but he also wasn’t going to get a better transition than this. “I was thinking about… _things,_ and I wondered if I could stay here.”

“For how long?” Vergil inquired.

“For… a while. And I thought that, if I was here, I could maybe…” Nero floundered for a bit as he struggled to find the right words, letting out a bitter sigh when he couldn’t think of anything better than “Join you two.”

Dante laughed. “Finally worked up the courage, huh kid?”

“Shut up.” He bit out, his irritation undercut by his burning cheeks.

“Forgive my skepticism, but are you sure?” Vergil frowned, leveling a critical eye at Nero. “You seemed to have a negative reaction whenever I was involved.”

Dante kicked Vergil in the back, Vergil grunting in surprise as he jolted away from the desk. He spun to glare at Dante, who shrugged and crossed his arms. “We talked about this, Vergil.”

“I remember. And yet, I still fail to see the problem with making my intentions clear.”

“The problem wasn’t that you made your ‘intentions’ clear—trust me, you made them _very_ clear.” Nero said with a grimace. “The problem was that you suck at being normal and not throwing creepy demon shit into everything you do, and I didn’t know how to deal with _that_ on top of the whole ‘come join our incest club.”

Dante snorted, repeating ‘incest club’ while laughing. Nero sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, this whole thing? I’m not used to it, and there are definitely gonna be fuck-ups if I become a part of it. And, if we’re all fine with that, I have a couple ground rules I want to say before anything starts.”

Vergil rolled his eyes, prompting Dante to throw an errant pen at him, seeing as he was too far away to kick. Without looking, Vergil tilted his body to the side, the pen missing and clattering to the floor, probably to never be found again. “Ignore your old man, we’re listening.”

Nero pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he was dooming himself to deal with their bullshit for the foreseeable future, but he was already committed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not cleaning up after you guys. We have to keep this place clean, but I’m not doing _all_ the work. Throw the trash away, try to keep your shit organized, the basic stuff.”

Vergil and Dante grimaced simultaneously, glancing around at the still-messy office, then up to the second floor. Eventually, Vergil spoke. “That can be… arranged. However, let’s not focus on that today.”

“That’s fine, just do it at _some point_ in the near future.” Nero sat back, the realization that his family was essentially a pair of grown-up children forming a headache at the base of his skull. “Next up, I want to take jobs while I’m here. Doesn’t matter what they are—if it’s grunt work for you guys, or the next apocalypse—but I’m not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs, and I want fair payment for it.”

“I wouldn’t cheat you out of that.” Dante waved his hand. “Just let me tell Morrison you’re back and you’ll be good to go.”

“Okay, good. Last thing: I need an out if I’m not comfortable with something, and the out can’t be kicking your asses into the ground, because I’m pretty sure that’ll only rile you up more.”

“It doesn’t.” Vergil rebutted, maybe a bit too quick.

“Nah, it does.” Vergil glared daggers at Dante, who merely shrugged. “What? I know I’ve popped an awkward boner from a rowdy fight or two.”

“O _kay,_ not what I meant, but sure, that too.” Nero looked away. “Either way, I’m new to this, so I need some way out if I’m not into whatever we’re doing.”

Dante hummed. “I know Lady brought up something about a ‘safeword’ a couple times when she gets drunk. She uses it whenever Trish gets too ‘zappy’ with her and she needs her to stop. Maybe we could use that?”

“Do you think that would work?” Vergil asked.

Nero, choosing to skip over the revelation that Lady and Trish were a _thing,_ said. “Never tried anything like that before, but it’s better than nothing.”

Vergil sighed. “Very well, then. What ‘word’ would you like to use?”

Nero opened his mouth, then closed it, suddenly unsure. Dante, seeing him struggle, chimed in. “How about olives?”

“Olives.” Vergil said. “Really.”

“Well, yeah. I don’t want olives anywhere _near_ me. If Nero says that, I’d definitely stop.”

“That’s because you and _only you_ hate olives, Dante. What would I care if he said olives?”

“It’d make you stop, wouldn’t it? You’d probably be all,” Dante made his voice a little nasally. “What is this fool blabbering about now? Can’t he see that I have my dick in his ass, and he should be focused on that, and that alone? Why, he’s practically disrespecting my legacy by doing so! I should leave him high and dry as punishment for these transgressions.”

“Dante, I swear on the soul of every demon in existence, if you do not _shut up—”_

“Hey!” Nero shouted, standing up from the couch. The two twins, practically snarling at each other over the desk, snapped their heads to look at him. “I’m _fine_ with making the word olives, it’ll work for me and that’s what matters. Now, will the two of you quit while you’re ahead, or are we going to fight over one fucking word?”

With deliberate, restrained movements, Vergil and Dante settled down, Dante relaxing back into his chair and Vergil leaning against the staircase. _“Thank you.”_

“I will say that, while this word may be a comfort to you, fighting us off will be your best bet.” Vergil said. “We’re unlikely to stop if we’re in the throes of passion.”

“Quit waxing poetic, brother.” Dante jeered before turning his attention back to Nero. “But seriously, he does have a point. The word is a good idea, but odds are if our demons come out to play, you’ll have better chances getting us to stop by punching us.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll cross that bridge when it happens. Believe it or not, I don’t want to resort to fighting you guys to get what I want.” Nero scuffed his shoe against a damaged floorboard before plopping his weight back down on the couch, hands in his pockets. “But hey, I’ve said my piece. Anything you two want to throw out?”

“Nah, I’m pretty cool with everything you’ve said, especially the job part. Wouldn’t mind having another pair of hands to help out—”

“Actually,” Vergil interrupted. “I do have a… _stipulation,_ if we could even call it that.”

Nero sighed. Of course, it couldn’t be as easy as saying a few words. “Okay, what is it?’”

“Nothing difficult, or impossible for you to follow through on. What I am requesting is a… test, so to speak.”

“…I’m sorry, _what?”_ Nero’s face scrunched up. “A test for what?”

“To see if having the both of us is truly what you desire.” Vergil pushed off of the stairs and slowly made his way towards Nero, hovering over him and in his personal space _just_ enough to put Nero on edge. The image of a lion stalking its prey, about to lunge for the killing blow, flashed in Nero’s mind. “Like I said before, my prior attempts at… persuasion were not received well. I only wish to ensure that you would truly want my presence, or whether you would prefer having my brother, and _only_ my brother.”

“I told you before, he’s got it bad for both of us.” Dante commented, rising from his chair and circling his desk to flank his twin. “Still, I’m _definitely_ not opposed to a trial run, especially after the little preview I got. Feels unfair to leave you high and dry, brother dearest.”

“Do you take me for a jealous lover?”

“Considering you nearly broke that one girl’s nose when we had a job to scout at the strip club—”

_Oh for the love of God._

Nero summoned his spectral arms and grabbed each of the twins’ shoulders, giving them a harsh shake and nearly knocking them together. “If you two are going to bicker about inane shit every time we try to do something, then you can forget about _all_ of this, not just your little test.”

“Does that mean you wish to continue?” Vergil smirked. “Be warned, I won’t go easy on you if you do.”

Nero felt a shiver run down his spine, but he forced himself to straighten up, giving Vergil the strongest look he could muster. “Bring it. I can take anything you throw at me.”

Dante chuckled, and Vergil’s smirk grew into a full, toothy grin. “We’ll certainly see if you can.” 

Nero growled, a comeback on the tip of his tongue, only to nearly choke as Vergil shrugged off his spectral arm’s grip and bent down, reaching out and cupping the side of his face with his hand. The contact was… surprisingly soft, despite the well-worn calluses on his fingers, and Nero had to resist the urge to lean into his touch, instead focusing on dismissing his wings.

Taking this as encouragement, Vergil leaned closer, keeping his movements slow as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to Nero’s. Vergil’s other hand went down to hold Nero’s, rubbing small circles on the back of it. His tongue flicked across Nero’s lips, asking for entrance, and Nero cautiously opened his mouth, letting Vergil take the lead.

Their tongues intertwined, Vergil pressing a little harder, and Nero sank into the couch, eyes falling shut. Vergil’s tongue explored his mouth, running over his teeth, as if mapping out each little divot. As he did this, Vergil’s finger’s scratched the skin behind Nero’s ear, and he let out a little, involuntary noise that Vergil responded to, the make-out growing a little more fervent.

It was warm, wet, and, most surprisingly, _cautious._ It threw Nero for a loop, especially when Vergil’s prior behavior made him seem like someone who would take, and take, and _take_ without caring about how someone would react. Maybe it was because Nero hadn’t made it clear he was interested, or maybe it was because Nero was, essentially, offering himself up for Vergil to do as he pleased. Whatever the reason, it was different from the blood-soaked kiss from weeks ago, but it was still just as much of a turn on that made Nero’s pants tighten with excitement.

And then Vergil was ripped away from him, Dante pulling him back by his vest and tossing him to the ground. Nero let out a growl, echoed by Vergil’s own furious noise as Dante took his place, peppering kisses all over Nero’s face before reaching his mouth and plundering it. 

Nero, still annoyed that Dante had interrupted them, reached up and pulled Dante’s hair. He hoped it would get him to fuck of, but Dante instead gave him a full body shiver and pressed harder, biting at Nero’s lips as he rutted against Nero’s thigh, a small amount of friction brushing against Nero’s cock at the motion.

Nero growled, tilting his head back as he panted for breath. Dante took the opportunity to lick and nip at his neck, sucking bruises against his pale skin that healed in seconds. The quick rush of pain, followed by the even faster burst of relief made his head spin, and he had to cling to Dante to have a stable foothold for what was happening.

A growl came from behind him, and Dante let out a sudden yelp as he was pulled back, Vergil’s teeth sunk into his nape as he pulled him back, like a mother cat herding her kitten. Dante elbowed him in the gut and put some distance between them, not-so-subtly adjusting his pants as Vergil licked his lips, glaring at each other.

“Patience is a virtue, brother. Do you not remember that, or did it conveniently slip from your mind?” Vergil taunted.

“You were hogging all the kid’s attention.” Dante smirked. “‘Sides, not my fault you two got me all riled up. I figured you would take it as a compliment!”

“Do not patronize me—”

“Holy shit, do you two fight over _everything?”_ Nero growled, getting up from the couch.

“He started it.” Vergil said, somehow not self-aware enough to realize he sounded like a bratty child instead of a full grown man who’d split his soul in two and razed an entire city to gain more power.

Nero summoned his wings again, holding them threateningly over his head. “If you two don’t get your shit together, I _will_ leave.”

Which was a total bluff, seeing as Nero made a big event out of leaving Fortuna and would rather not return with his tail tucked between his legs less than a day later (and oh boy, would Nico give him shit about that for _years)._ Still, it was enough to make the twins glance at each other and rise out of their attack-ready poses.

“Temporary truce?” Dante asked.

“Temporary truce.” Vergil agreed.

And, with synchronized movements that only they could manage, they pounced.

Vergil went back to Nero’s lips, more than content with reclaiming his lost territory with a forceful passion that made Nero’s head spin. The gentleness from before was gone and, while a part of Nero was sad to see that side of Vergil leave so soon, a larger part of him was enraptured by how rough Vergil was, mercilessly pulling his short strands of hair back to expose his neck, leaving Nero at his mercy as he struggled to follow.

Dante, however, returned to Nero’s necks, pressing more kisses and bites to the column of skin presented to him by his brother. They were more painful than loving, but each brief spike of pain drove Nero’s arousal up tenfold. It wasn’t even a minute before he started squirming against the couch, trying to create friction to satisfy the heat coiling in his stomach.

Running out of air, Nero broke away, briefly struggling against the twins’ weight to shrug his coat off, hoping to lessen the heat burning through his veins. “Holy shit, if you two worked together more often, you could get a hell of a lot more done—”

Vergil surged forward, carding his fingers through Nero’s hair as he caught his lips in another kiss. Nero grunted, opening his mouth to try and breathe, only for Vergil to force him down onto the couch with his weight, slotting his thigh between Nero’s and rutting it against his groin. The sudden (and very much appreciated) friction turned Nero’s limbs to jelly as he moaned against Vergil’s mouth, struggling to focus.

“We probably could.” Dante chuckled from his left, continuing where Nero left off, and Nero glanced over to see him casually leaning there, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “But there’s nothing I love more than beating the shit out of my older brother. Wouldn’t you agree, Vergil?” 

Vergil pulled back, humming mockingly as he looked down at Nero. “Normally I would—seeing you with a broken nose that I caused is nothing short of a delight—but…” Vergil’s grip on his hair tightened and Nero grunted, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes from the sharp sting as he grabbed Vergil’s wrist. Vergil tilted his head towards Dante as Nero blinked, stray tears rolling down his cheeks. “Look at how much we’ve affected him in such a short period of time. I’d say this newfound partnership is rather beneficial for the both of us.”

Dante’s thumb brushed across Nero’s cheek, so light Nero almost didn’t feel it, if not for his nail catching an errant tear. “If it gets more expressions like _this_ outta him, I’m all for keeping this up.”

“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here— _ngh!”_ Nero cut himself off as Vergil pulled his hair and shoved his leg between Nero’s thighs, his toes curling in his boots. He didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of hearing him make any noises (he was embarrassed by how he could sound, for one thing, but a dark part of him wanted them to _work_ for it) but it was extremely hard not to rock his hips for a few more errant sparks of pleasure. He didn’t think that a bit of hair yanking would make him harder than a diamond and have his thoughts scatter like startled fish in a pond, but here he was.

“What say you? Should we take him to bed?” Vergil asked, as if he wasn’t going to do that in the first place.

“I’ll get everything ready, come up in a few.” Dante rose from the couch, the sudden absence of warmth startling Nero enough to drag his thoughts back into focus with a small gasp. Shit, right, they weren’t going to just… _do it_ on the couch in the very open, very not private lobby.

Fuck, this was actually happening.

Nero’s bravado faltered for a second, wavering further as Vergil pulled his thigh away, gently brushing his hair down from where he pulled it. Vergil then moved to the side, sliding his arms under Nero’s legs and between the couch and his back before lifting him up with no problem. 

Nero flailed and fisted Vergil’s vest, glaring up at his father. “I can _walk_ y’know.”

“Am I not allowed to spoil you, considering this is a very special occasion?.” Vergil asked teasingly as he looked down at Nero. “Tell me, have you ever been with a man before?”

Nero sputtered and looked away. “…No. I’ve never ‘been with’ anyone, period. Who the hell would want to get with a whore’s son that grew into a punk teen with a demon arm?”

Vergil’s grip on Nero tightened by a barely noticeable fraction as he started for the stairs. “I see. We’ll go slowly, then.”

“I’m not made of glass—”

“I’m fully aware, but if this will truly be your first time, then I’d prefer to make the experience enjoyable.” Vergil huffed an amused breath. “That, and I’d rather not cause more pain than what’s necessary.”

“Oh yeah?” Nero’s grip tightened as Vergil took the first steps up the stairs. “And what’s ‘necessary?’”

Vergil chuckled and leaned closer to Nero’s ear. “However much it will take for you to come screaming my name.”

Nero’s breath hitched, and he looked down at his lap and the prominent bulge in his jeans, doing his best to ignore how Vergil’s chest shook with laughter. 

They arrived at the second floor quicker than Nero anticipated, and Vergil nudged the door to Dante’s bedroom open with his shoe. The room was just as, if not even messier than when Nero had first arrived at Devil May Cry, though Dante had clearly done his best to ‘clean up.’ He’d shoved piles of dirty clothes and miscellaneous items clear of the bed, and was in the middle of fixing the sheets when they entered.

“Sooo…” Dante said as he straightened up, brushing his hands off on his pants. “How are we doing this?”

“What do you mean?” Nero asked.

“Simple: who’s fucking who?” Dante undid his belt, throwing it off to the side with a clatter. “Normally Vergil and I just tussle and whoever’s on top, tops. But with you in the mix, we have to actually talk things out now.”

“I doubt a _discussion_ has to occur.” Vergil said, pulling Nero closer to his chest. “Besides, it’s obvious that I should be the one to take Nero.”

Nero jerked in surprise and looked up at Vergil. “What?”

“Aw, c’mon!” Dante, of course, took the ‘petulant whining’ route. “Why can’t I top for once?”

“If you mean when we _normally_ couple, it’s because you struggle to land decent hits to assert your dominance. If you are referring to _now,”_ Vergil, in a rare show of chivalry, brought Nero over to the bed and placed him on the edge. “It is because you already had your time with Nero. It only feels fair that I have mine.”

“Hey, _you_ are still up by one.”

“Both of my encounters ended in failures, while _you_ had a successful evening with him.”

“Is one blowjob really a success, though?”

“You _told him?”_ Nero blurted out, face burning. He was more angered than embarrassed, really—he figured Dante had just told Vergil he was open to talk, not giving him all the details of their night in The Landing Strip.

“I mean… I didn’t give him any explicit details?” Dante shrugged, though based on his sheepish expression, he could definitely tell Nero was angry. “It was just a ‘hey, I had sex with Nero!’ ‘Really?’ ‘Ah, well, I blew him, but we didn’t do anything more than that.’”

_“Regardless.”_ Vergil cut in. “I still believe it’s only fair that I be the one on top, with Nero in the center and you at the bottom.”

Dante pouted, attempting (and failing) to use puppy dog eyes on the two of them. “Please? Nero, come on, don’t you want your first time to be with me?”

“Definitely not after admitting you’ll talk about it with whoever you want.” Nero said, unable to keep the slightly bitter bite out of his tone. “But, even if you didn’t, I… want to follow up on that ‘next time.’”

Dante looked puzzled for a few seconds before his face lit up with absolute glee, and he quickly settled at the head of the mattress, unzipping his pants. “I’m perfectly fine with that. Have fun with his ass, Vergil, I’m taking his mouth.”

“I’ll need lubricant if you want me to do an efficient job.”

“‘Lubricant,’ he says.” Dante, halfway through shimmying his pants and boxers off, rolled his eyes and grabbed a transparent bottle on the bedside drawer before tossing it to Vergil. “Just call it lube like everyone else.”

“I doubt it matters what I call things so long as you understand what I am asking for.” Vergil said, placing the bottle gently off to the side as he began working on unbuttoning his vest. 

Nero, realizing he was soon going to be the only one in the room clothes on, gripped the end of his shirt tightly. Vergil’s skin was immaculate and, while Dante did have his own collection of scars, it served to highlight how warped his own body had become. Funny how, after coming to terms that he wanted his father and uncle like this and psyching himself up for the past week to act on those wants, realizing that he was going to be _naked_ was the biggest hurdle so far.

Maybe he could somehow keep his shirt on? It would be stupid, but if he waited until they were all… _preoccupied,_ maybe he could take it off then. 

With that thought in mind, Nero went to the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes, then worked his way up. It was dumb and definitely more time-consuming than stripping entirely, but it made him feel marginally more confident.

Halfway through pushing his pants down his legs, Dante grabbed his arm and pulled, dragging him closer to the top of the bed. Nero let out a grunt, which was immediately swallowed by Dante’s lips. Dante was unbelievably warm, his tongue hot and wet and oh- _so_ nice to kiss and suck on, and it served as a good distraction as Vergil sighed behind him, pulling Nero’s pants off the rest of the way.

Nero jerked as he felt something long and wet press against his ass, and he broke away from Dante’s kiss to look over his shoulder. Vergil was kneeling behind him, one hand grasping Nero’s thigh while the other had jerked away, fingers were wet, shining with a translucent substance. A few streaks, probably some leftovers from Vergil’s fingers, were on his cheek.

Dante chuckled, and Nero hesitantly glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “You never seen lube before?” 

“You seriously think that Fortuna would give people stuff that helps with sex?” Nero answered his question with another question, hiding the sudden nervousness that curled in his stomach like a coiled spring. He had a vague memory of one of his fellow cadets bragging about a ‘condom’ he managed to snag from a tourist that was supposed to help with sex, but beyond his past explorations and his night with Dante, he was in the dark about… mostly everything, really.

“No need to get testy.” Dante petted his head, brushing his fingers through Nero’s hair as his other hand travelled south, Nero’s eyes following its path. “Just letting you know what it is.”

Nero shivered as his eyes landed on Dante’s hand stroking his dick, swiping at the precome beading at the head to make each pass smooth with a wet _schlick._ It was still impressive, even in it’s half-erect state, and Nero swallowed dryly, imagining how it would taste, how it would feel in his mouth, down his throat.

“Oh, do you want something?” Dante asked with a smirk.

“Shut up.” Nero replied eloquently, leaning down until he was eye-level with the head. It pulsed briefly, pre-come now leakinig heavily , and some distant part of Nero’s mind that was slowly going insane imagined that this was it saying ‘hello.’

Nero had no clue what he was doing, and he knew it was obvious. Still, he told Dante he wanted to do this, and he wasn’t going to back down just because Dante was _big._

So, after telling his insecurities to shove it, Nero placed one hand on Dante’s hip to brace himself and licked the head.

Dante grunted, his hips twitching under Nero’s hand, but Nero was more focused on the taste. It was salty, and clung to his taste buds, but it wasn’t a bad taste; quite the opposite, actually. 

Nero licked a few more times, taking his time to get used to the flavor (and relishing in each twitch he felt on his tongue, against his hand) before he took the head into his mouth and lightly sucked. That drew a grunt out of Dante, the sound making Nero shiver, and his goal shifted from ‘doing a good job’ to ‘get more noises like _that_ out of him.’

Going down further on Dante, Nero let out a muffled grunt as Vergil’s wet fingers returned, pressing lightly against his asshole. He didn’t pull away, but he did pull his legs closer, arching his back slightly, as if to hide away. Vergil huffed an annoyed breath behind him, but his fingers refused to leave, tracing circles around the rim.

Nero shuddered, the novel sensation making him feel weird, and he did his best to ignore it as he continued working his way down, taking more and more of Dante in his mouth. He was quickly running out of space, his head nudging the back of his throat, but he held his breath and forced himself to take more, drool slipping past his lips and running down his chin.

Focusing on Dante, however, meant that the rest of his body relaxed—or, at the very least, had relaxed enough for Vergil’s finger to slip further into Nero. He nearly choked, hastily pulling back to take a few breaths, exchanging his hand with his mouth. Dante didn’t seem to mind, sighing and tilting his head back, bracing his feet against the sheets as he thrusted into Nero’s hand.

Vergil was relentless, pushing and pulling and prodding his finger, wiggling further in and curling against his walls. Nero twitched, clenching down on Vergil’s fingers and grunting as Vergil drew back, only to press two against him and slowly push in.

“Hey,” Dante breathed, cupping Nero’s face with his hands, forcing him to look up. “Just focus on me, okay? Focus on me.”

“Easier said than—” Nero cut himself off with a hiss, shivering as Vergil pushed his two fingers to the knuckle, then forced them apart, scissoring and then curling, drawing his fingers against his insides. “Than done.”

“Trust me, it gets better.” Dante smiled, then grabbed his dick, lining it up with Nero’s mouth. “Still, you do have that promise to fulfill.”

“Wouldn’t call it a promise.” Nero said, but he still opened his mouth and went back to sucking Dante’s dick, greedily swallowing the come that landed on his tongue. He tried to copy what Dante did to him, though with an obvious lack of skill. He wasn’t used to twisting his tongue like Dante had, and his jaw was quickly growing sore, but he did his best, forcing Dante’s dick to the back of his throat again and swallowing.

Dante let out a deep moan, his back arching as he twisted his fingers in Nero’s short hair. At the same time, Vergil curled his fingers such a way that it brushed against something in Nero that made his whole body jolt, eyes flashing white as he choked on Dante’s dick. When his senses had recovered somewhat, he’d somehow shoved Dante’s dick further down his throat. 

“There it is.” Vergil said as Nero jerked back, leaning against Dante’s thigh as he coughed, panting raggedly. Dante’s hand was still in his hair, gently petting his head as Vergil drew his fingers back, pressing a third against Nero’s rim as he pushed back in. Nero’s entire body twitched, but he steeled his nerves. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sucking Dante’s dick, if only because his jaw was aching in a not-fun way at this point, and he settled with wrapping both his hands around his stupidly large cock, occasionally licking at and sucking the head into his mouth, shivering as he got his fill of Dante’s cum.

As he did, letting Dante thrust into his mouth with small gasps and moans, Vergil continued fingering him. Nero had never appreciated Vergil’s fingers until now—long and slender, the skin soft and well-cared for, incredibly flexible—as they pressed against his walls and found that one spot that drove him to the edge of coming. 

Nero moaned, his back arching as he abandoned his attempts to please Dante, instead clenching his jaw as he gripped at the sheets, trying to keep from coming. His shirt stuck to his skin and, with jerky movements that required all his brain power, he tore the damn thing off before collapsing between Dante’s thighs, panting as Vergil just… fucking _pressed._ He didn’t let up, forcing more and more pressure against that spot as he teased his pinkie finger in.

Dante whispered sweet nothings above him, meaningly praise and other things as he petted Nero’s head. When he glanced up, Dante’s eyes were a dark void of hungry pleasure, a thin ring of burning orange surrounding his blown pupils. Nero swallowed the drool that had built up in his mouth, meaning to say something, only for a high pitched whine to leave him as Vergil curled his fingers again, all four striking the spot while his thumb pressed just behind his balls. His blood boiled, reaching a fever pitch, and he hastily jerked his hand down to wrap around the base of his dick, wanting to last just a bit longer despite his entire body screaming at him that he couldn’t, that he _needed_ to come, right there, right now, _oh god he was going to come._

“Careful Vergil, don’t want to kill him.” Dante chuckled above him, his voice a bit strained as he drew his fingers through Nero’s hair. Nero’s brain felt like it was melting out of his ears from the contrast of Dante’s soft, caring attention and Vergil’s relently drive to push him off the brink of insanity. 

“Hardly _my_ fault he’s inexperienced.” Vergil mused with a surprising amount of attitude considering he, y’know, had his hand up Nero’s ass and was slowly killing him.

“He was probably ready, like, five minutes ago. You’re just going to bruise his prostate at this rate.” Nero wanted to be angry—they were talking about this like they were discussing dinner plans, or a movie—but he his brain felt like mush, and he could barely think past the buzzing haze coating his thoughts. He clung onto Dante like a lifeline, pressing his face against his thigh as he panted, his body shivering uncontrollably.

“He was, but watching his reactions are certainly entertaining.” Vergil hummed and pulled his fingers back. 

Nero let out a debauched whine, his thighs twitching as he reflexively tightened around them. He took a deep breath, the action not doing as much as he wanted, considering he was breathing in Dante’s sweat and musk, which only made his thoughts scatter further. “Please…”

Dante huffed amusedly as Vergil’s warm weight curled over his back, his clean hand running up Nero’s side before reaching his neck, his fingers curling around Nero’s throat. He didn’t tighten his hold, but the threat was there, and Nero huffed out a breath through his nose as Vergil’s warm breath brushed against his ear. “Already begging now, are we?”

Nero grit his teeth and tried to pull himself together, but his traitorous body shivered. Vergil chuckled and nipped his ear before addressing his brother. “How long will it take for you to get ready?”

“Hell of a lot faster than you took.” Dante sat up on his legs, making a grabbing motion towards Vergil. “I do need the lube, though. Don’t want to chafe the kid’s dick.”

Vergil let out a long suffering sigh and grabbed the bottle from before with his dirty hand, lobbing it to Dante. He let out a cheery “thank you!” as he squirted more of the liquid on his fingers before turning around, spreading his ass with his clean hand and displaying himself proudly to Nero and Vergil.

“Enjoy the show, kid.” Dante smirked over his shoulder at Nero as he pressed three of his fingers into himself, arching his back and letting out an exaggerated moan. He twisted his hand, each twist and moan accompanied by an obscene wet noise from his ass as he pumped his fingers in, out, in, out.

It was gross and, under any other circumstance, it’d probably kill Nero’s excitement. But it was Dante doing that to himself, and it was Dante making those noises and arching his back, and every time Nero tried to press closer to get a better look, or maybe to lick the sweat beading on Dante’s back, he was reminded of Vergil’s hold on his throat, and it all served to stoke the embers of his burning _want._

_Fuck._

Nero whined and ground down, pressing against Vergil’s hips as frustrated tears burned in the corners of his eyes. Vergil chuckld behind him, occasionally thrusting against Nero’s ass, but providing no extra stimulation. He didn’t know what was worse—being teased and tortured and wanting desperately not to come, or being ignored and left to simmer and watch as his uncle pleased himself.

When Dante pulled his fingers out, a rush of lube followed, and he shuffled around slowly before laying down, gripping a pillow behind his head as he held his legs up, keeping himself on display for Nero. “Come and take it, kid.”

Nero shuddered, his demon crowing from deep within his mind, demanding he take what had been freely offered. The moment Vergil let go, Nero jerked forward, guiding his dick to Dante’s hole and pushing in, in, _in._

Nero gasped, curling forward and resting his forehead against Dante’s chest. He was _not_ loose, clamping down on Nero’s dick with a warm, wet vice grip, and Nero fucking _loved_ _it._ He moaned, pushing in more and more until he was pressing against Dante’s ass, his hips twitching forward as he could go further. Dante was panting just as hard beneath him, his insides twitching around Nero and driving him even nuts.

“Don’t—move.” Nero choked out. “I’ll, I’ll lose it if you—”

“I wouldn’t worry about Dante at the moment.” Vergil said, his voice startling Nero. Lost in the haze of ~~(tight tight so good so warm _perfect_ more _more_ **_more)_ **~~ entering Dante, he’d almost forgotten Vergil was there.

Almost, because now it felt obvious, especially when Vergil was pressing the head of his dick against Nero’s entrance, and he was, he was—

“Oh _fuck.”_ Nero grunted, holding his breath as Vergil pushed in, inch by torturous, glorious inch, only to let it out with a stuttering moan as his eyes rolled back, unseeing. Fireworks exploded in his brain as his entire body tensed, ready to snap as his brain fizzled out. He pushed back against Vergil, trying to get more in, only to whine at the loss of heat around his cock, only for Dante to push his hips up and back onto the space he’d lost.

He was so warm. He was so full. He was _going to lose his mind._

“I can’t—” He choked out, only dimly realizing he was crying, at this point, sniffling as he tried to breathe but couldn’t. “I can’t—gonna come, please, I—”

“Keep going.” Dante whispered reverently, pulling his hips back before pushing himself up, sheathing himself on Nero. “You can do this, Nero. You’ve done so good for us, come so far, do it, fill me, Nero, please—”

“You _will_ do this.” Vergil commanded at his back, his voice sharp as ice but a voracious heat behind his words. “You’ll do this, Nero, or I swear I will leave.”

“Don’t you fucking _dare.”_ Nero hissed out, only to whimper as Vergil began to draw back. In a desperate attempt to keep them both, Nero summoned his wings and wrapped them around the twins, pulling them closer.

Dante moaned, his body tightening up even further than before, somehow, as Vergil’s dick hit that spot in Nero, and the small string holding Nero’s sanity together snapped. 

Nero yelled, his dick pulsing as he filled Dante’s ass with his cum, eyes rolling back as he tensed. Throughout his orgasm, Dante and Vergil didn’t stop. If anything, they grew rougher; Dante tightened and milked him of all he was worth, while Vergil’s thrusts grew harder, more erratic, the sound of his balls slapping against his ass ringing in his ears. It prolonged his orgasm even longer, his arms and legs shaking from the overload of sensation, dark spots crawling in around the edges of his vision.

“C-Can’t… Please…” Nero choked out, struggling to breathe through the onslaught, he was only thrusting because of Vergil, the momentum carrying through Nero’s hips. _“P-Please…”_

_“Nero.”_ Dante said his name like a prayer, grabbing Nero’s head and bringing his face close, licking away his tears, biting his lips in a too-excited kiss. “Nero, Nero, keep going, keep going for us, for me, keep going—”

“Do as he says, Nero.” Vergil said between harsh thrusts, nails digging into Nero’s hips as he pounded into his own flesh and blood, driving Nero into Dante and making both their heads spin. “Show him what it’s like to be driven to the same insanity you’ve reached. _Make him come, Nero.”_

The command resonated with something deep within Nero’s soul, and an untapped well of energy burst free with a roar. Nero dug his nails into Dante’s sides, his hips pistoning into Dante’s, the older man moaning praises “Yes yes _yes,_ Nero, you beautiful son of a bitch, fuck me fuck me _fuck me Nero!”_

Dante convulsed beneath him, back arching as he clamped down on Nero, spurts of his cum covering his chest. Nero sank his teeth into Dante’s bared neck, his uncle’s moans growing into a near-scream as warm blood splashed onto Nero’s tongue, the taste of iron and smoke filling his mouth. 

Vergil panted behind him, his strong, sure thrusts stuttering as he pressed against Nero’s ass. He felt Vergil’s cock twitch before warm cum filled his ass, and a wave of bone-deep satisfaction washed over Nero’s body before his arms and legs collapsed, his vision tunneling before going completely dark.

* * *

Nero woke abruptly, his body jerking before he stilled with a groan. His entire body ached, pushed well beyond its limits, and his brain felt like it had been stuffed with wet cotton. 

Despite his brain only barely functioning, the longer he was awake, the more things he came to realize. Like how he was on his side, sandwiched between two warm, sweaty bodies, the room abnormally silent.

“Nero?” Vergil said from behind, voice rumbling against his back. Nero noted, with a slight, irrational disappointment, that Vergil had pulled out at some point, and there was a drying mess between his thighs. He'd need to take a shower at some point in the near future, but the thought of getting up and attempting to do anything was so outrageously disgusting that he shivered at the mere thought of it.

Nero made a vaguely affirmative grumble and pressed his forehead against the warm body in front of him—Dante, probably—and tried to force his brain to wake up enough to form words. “Did I pass…?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. You were only out for…” The body in front of him shifted, twisting around before settling back and cocooning Nero. “Ah shit, don’t got a clock in here.”

“No, not…” Nero wanted to growl, the words bouncing around his head, but he didn’t know how to say them. No _shit_ he'd passed out, he didn't care about that, despite how embarrassing it was (like, c'mon body, he'd fought massive demons that were practically gods, but _sex_ was where it drew the line?). “Th’ test. Did I pass th’ test?”

Dante barked out a laugh, his chest shaking as Vergil said, “With flying colors.” Which Nero’s sleepy brain interpreted as a ‘yes.’ “Do you feel well?”

“Feel run over.” Nero mumbled, trying to make a fist with barely-responsive fingers, only to give up halfway through. “Buncha Basilisks ran _all_ over me.”

“You’ve encountered a Basilisk?”

“Nah, he’s talking about some man-made Hell Hounds that are in Fortuna.”

“…Basilisks are most definitely _not_ canines.”

“Yeah, well, if you can figure out where the designer was buried, you can drag his ass back from hell and ask him how he came up with the name.”

“Wasn’t buried, we burned ‘em.” Nero commented idly, stopping the argument before it could pick up speed. He licked his lips, shivering at the taste of iron. “I… bit you?”

“Oh yeah, tore up my throat real good.” The sheets shifted as Dante moved his arm, and Nero lifted his head enough to look up. Dante’s throat had small, healing marks from his teeth, the surrounding skin and sheets stained red. “It was hot.”

“Y’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dante smiled, ruffling Nero’s short hair. “‘preciate the concern, though.”

“Your concern would be much more warranted had you not missed the gland.” Vergil said. "However, we are all fine, if a bit winded."

“Gland?” Nero asked, his voice growing fainter as the small amount of energy he managed to regain began to dwindle.

“Don’t worry about it for now.” Dante pressed his lips to Nero’s temple, his stubble-coated chin scratching against his sensitive skin. “It’s a demon thing. We’ll talk about it later.”

“M’kay.” Nero mumbled, pressing his face into the mattress. Before drifting off, Nero heard the twins whispering above his head, their voices too low for him to hear. Frankly, he was too tired to care, more than happy to just be here, accepted by his family.

Nero’s lips twitched up into a faint smile, content for the first time in months as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, look at that! I can do happy endings!
> 
> Once again, I have to give my sincere and heartfelt thank yous to everyone who’s read this crazy series, left a kudos, and even left a comment! While I didn’t reply to all of them (depression and social anxiety hit me HARD the past couple months, especially with a certain pandemic going on), reading each comment made me genuinely happy. I’m just as glad to be a part of this as the rest of you!
> 
> And this series isn't over! I already have the next fic planned, (certain folks on the Spardacest Server may already know what it is), but just know I’m going to take a _slight_ break from writing this series for a while. I started a new AU to try and keep me from getting too burned out with this fic, so the first chapter of that will likely be posted first, and I’m possibly going to add another chapter to RFaDT before the next semi-plot-important fic comes around.


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